


Love's a Bitch

by The Neon Gang (clgfanfic)



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magnificent Seven AU: ATF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 07:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/The%20Neon%20Gang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An assassin crosses paths with Team Seven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love's a Bitch

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Seven Card Stud #16. There is a gen version of this story - Payback's a Bitch.
> 
> This is an immediate sequel to "A Time to Love."
> 
> This story is a recycle of the "Scorned" episode of Special Ops Force.

**Monday, around noon**

**Denver, Colorado**

 

          She was waiting for him in Washington Park.  He was surprised that he was meeting a woman, and guessed that she must be one of Raptor's lovers, someone he trusted to pick up the information for him.

He smiled as he reached her in the secluded spot.  She was beautiful, and he couldn't help imagining what it might be like to take her right here, on the picnic table, under the trees, while everyone else went about their business, eating their lunches, playing with their children, walking with their lovers…

          Yes, he would love to see what she would be like under him, but there was a glint of danger in her eyes that quickly evaporated his desire, and he remembered why he was there.

          "You have something for me?" she asked, her voice softly accented.  European, he guessed.

She was teasing him, and that forwardness destroyed his fantasy.  He would have preferred her passive, even a little afraid of him.  He nodded and handed her the file.

"I brought what your employer needs, the whole file, everything, straight from the ATF," he said, handing it over.  His palms were beginning to sweat.  That look in her eyes, it was… predatory.

"And the intel?" she asked him.

"It's all set up."  He watched as she casually set a large silver coin to spinning on the top of the picnic table.  "It's all right.  There's nothing to worry about.  I can keep a secret."

He could hear himself speaking, begging really, and it disgusted him, but he couldn't help it.  That look in her eyes frightened him.

He heard the coin begin to slow, even as the knife blade sunk into his chest, piercing his heart.  He felt his eyes widen, and his hands came up, but he was too afraid to actually touch the hilt that was sticking out of his chest.  His bladder released and he felt his own piss running down his leg.

 _Coward_ , he thought to himself as he began to slump forward, his gaze on the coin as it slowly began to wobble and then fall over.  He was dead before it came to a rest on the tabletop.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Monday evening**

**Larabee Ranch**

 

Vin woke first, his stomach rumbling, reminding him that he and Chris had skipped lunch, but he hadn't minded in the slightest.  He lay still, listening to the sound of Chris sleeping, reveling in the feel of the man's bare skin against his own.  It was as if all of his dreams had suddenly come true within the span of a few weeks.

His eyebrows drew together as he remembered what he'd seen just before he'd fallen asleep…  The filmy outlines of a man and a woman sitting at the foot of the bed…  Vin was almost sure that the woman had been Sarah Larabee, but he had no idea who the man was.

He remembered what she had said to him, though:  _Thank you_.  _You take care of him for me, Vin_.

He wasn't sure what she was thanking him for, but he made a silent vow to the dead woman to look after the man who now owned him – body, heart, and soul.

Chris moaned softly and Vin smiled, leaning in to kiss the back of the older man's neck.  That prompted a longer, deeper moan.

Vin kissed the bare skin again, then licked it and blew lightly.

"Christ," Larabee hissed.

Vin nibbled on the obviously sensitive skin, his arousal beginning to tell.  Chris wiggled back against him.

Vin laughed when he felt the man shiver, goose bumps popping up on his skin.  Then Larabee was moving, rolling over, pushing him over…  They were kissing, the blond clearly in control, and Vin didn't mind in the slightest.

Larabee moved, his lips and teeth going to work on one of Vin's already hard nipples.  The younger man gasped, arching up against the pleasure Chris' mouth was providing.

"Mmm, you like that, don't you," Larabee said rather than asked.  Vin just grinned and wiggled, inviting more.  A hungry flash of teeth was the blond's reply, and Vin tingled with anticipation.

Chris threw back the two edges of the bedspread that had been keeping them warm, then reached for one of the small drawers built into his tall bookcase headboard.  He took out a small tube of KY, hoping that he remember everything he'd read.

Vin knew immediately what Chris had in mind, and he turned over onto his side, one knee drawn up.

Chris eased in behind him, taking a few moments to appreciate the beauty of the man he was about to make love to.  They were almost the same height and weight, both of them fairly broad-shouldered and narrow-hipped, but he was slightly bulkier than Vin.  Tanner had a kind of sleek muscularity that made him look slighter, but the blond knew that it was really just an illusion.

He ran his hand down Vin's back, his fingertip tracing the Celtic knot tattoo that decorated the small of the sniper's back and tailbone.  Tanner sighed in response, muscles relaxing as he gave himself over to Chris.

Larabee leaned in, kissing and nibbling the back of Vin's neck, then breathing over his shoulder blades as he reached down and cupped the younger man's balls in his hand, playing with them for a while before reaching for the man's now-hard cock.  He gave it a few strokes, then caught some of the precome on his finger and spread it over the tight pucker of flesh that waited for him.  Vin gasped and pressed his ass back.

          Chris grinned.  He opened the tube and squeezed some of the KY onto his finger, then rubbed it down Vin's crack, slipping most of it past the tight ring of flesh.

          "Ah," Vin said, his breathing speeding up.

          Chris slowly sank his finger into the hot, tight channel, coating it with the KY.  He twisted his finger left and right, and slid it in and out, prompting a soft moan from Vin.

          Chris continued like that for a little longer, then pulled his finger out, added more KY, and pressed two digits back into his lover.  Vin responded with one of those whimpers that Larabee knew would forever send him from just aroused to steel hard in seconds flat.

          He worked Vin for a while, Tanner soon beginning to hump his ass back, trying to sink Chris' fingers in deeper.  "Chris," he moaned, "please…"

          Larabee swallowed hard, drawing his fingers out and reaching again for the KY.  This time, he used it to coat his more-than-ready cock.  Once that was done, he shifted closer, but Vin stilled him, rolling over onto his back and grabbing one of the pillows, sliding it under his lower back.  Then he opened his legs, inviting Chris to him.

          And the blond didn't need any additional encouragement.  He settled between Vin's legs, which the sniper drew up, exposing himself for Chris, who positioned himself and pressed.  Lube and preparation made his entry easier than he'd expected.  Vin grunted.

          "You okay?" Larabee asked.

          "Will be," Vin assured him with a half-hungry, half-evil grin.

          Chris held still, waiting until Vin finally nodded, then he pulled back slightly and leaned forward, sliding in a little deeper on the second stroke.  They worked like that, going slowly until, before too long, the blond was rocking back and forth and Vin was hard again, his eyes closed, his hips trying to lift to meet Larabee on the down strokes.

          "Oh, God… Chris… yes… Chris…"  The soft Texas drawl continued, a stream of words, encouragement, and demands.

And Chris tried to follow each one – speeding up, going deeper, going harder, until Vin's head was thrashing and his body was shaking.

          "There!" Vin cried, and Chris repeated the move, reaching at the same time for Tanner's leaking cock.  His fingers closed around it, hand pumping it hard and fast.

          "Chris!" Vin cried.  "'M gonna come!"

          "Come for me, baby," Larabee half-growled, his own hips picking up speed as he neared his own climax.

          "Chris!" Vin cried again, body bucking as his seed began to spill over Larabee's fingers.

          The sight of Vin coming was all it took to force Chris over as well, and he had to release Tanner's cock as his own began to explode.  Tanner quickly grabbed himself, jerking himself a few more times as the blond's seed filled him.

          Then they were no more than a panting heap there on the bed – Vin's legs coming down, his knees bent, Chris lying on his chest, sweat and semen mixing on their chests.

          "So… what'd y' think?" Vin asked when he'd caught some of his breath.

          Chris grinned where he was still lying, his head on Vin's chest.  "Good," he managed.

          "Good?  Just 'good'?"

          "Good… great… _amazing_ …" Chris panted.

          "That's more like it," Tanner replied, reaching up to hold Larabee.

          Chris chuckled.  No, life wasn't going to get dull with Vin around; smart-ass Texan.

          "Shower?" Vin asked.

          "Super glue?"

          "Nope, I'm starved.  I was thinkin' y' could go grill a couple 'a pork chops…"

          "Me, huh?" Chris asked, and felt Vin nod.

          "I'll make some mac and cheese 'n' salad t' go with 'em."

          Chris thought for a moment, then nodded.  "That actually sounds good."

          "Then get a move on," Vin said, giving Chris' ass a light slap.  "I'm starvin'!"

          "Guess that's why it sounds like there's an alien in here, trying to growl its way out," Larabee teased as he pushed up and looked down at the younger man.

          "That alien is gonna pop out 'n' eat your sorry ass fer dinner, if y' don't get a move on."

          Chris shook his head.  "Anyone ever tell you you're a real romantic, Tanner?"

          Vin paused and thought for a moment.  "Nope, don't reckon anybody has."

          "Good," Chris replied, climbing off the man, "because if they had, they'd have been lying."

          "Now, just a damn minute," Tanner replied, crawling off the bed after him.  "I am, too!"

          "Are not."

          "I sure as hell am," Vin persisted, following Chris into the bathroom.

          "Nope."

          "Fine," Vin grumbled.  "We'll just see who's the romantic one around here…"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

 

**Tuesday, 10:30 a.m.**

**Federal Building**

 

          Chris and the rest of Team Seven – minus Nathan – sat in a small conference room, along with a representative from the FBI.  The man standing at the head of the table was from the Pentagon, and, although he hadn't said so, they all knew he was from the NSA, or one of the other security agencies.  The man was older, in his late fifties, but still in excellent shape.  His silver- gray hair was cut short, the style suggesting he might have spent time in the military at some point in his career.  He introduced himself as David Selby.

          Larabee glanced over, meeting Assistant Director Orrin Travis' eyes.  The AD was livid, but doing a good job of not letting it show – too much, anyway.  Travis had created Team Seven less than a year ago, a special operations unit inside the federal agency.

          Chris leaned over a little closer to his boss and Travis whispered that Selby was on the level.

          "This is the item we're after, gentlemen," he said, and passed out two eight-by-ten photographs of a two-inch-long computer chip.  "It's called Magellan, and it's already had quite a trip around the world."

          "And you're telling us that this computer chip – a _single_ complete chip – is supposed to be able to crack _any_ encryption code currently available out there?" JD asked him, his tone dubious, at best.

          "That's right, Agent Dunne.  It renders all computer data, worldwide, vulnerable to unauthorized access, or total destruction," the man stated bluntly.

          "And you say that it's available on the open market?" Ezra questioned.

          "At twenty-five million dollars a pop," the NSA representative replied with a nod.

          "Well, hell, that's cheap.  You should buy it, reverse engineer it, and render it useless," JD stated emphatically, then hastily added, "sir."

          The corners of Selby's mouth turned up slightly, but all he said was, "The trick is making contact with the local distributor – a man named Henri Stein – but the FBI is getting close."

          "FBI?" Chris cut in, his gaze shifting to Glen Weathers, the FBI rep at the table.  The man was competent, but Larabee had a general distrust of "feebs."  "Then what do you need us for?"

          "Stein's hired an assassin, a man only known as Raptor," Selby explained.

          "So let the FBI take care of him," Buck offered with a dismissive wave of his hand.  "This isn't connected to alcohol, tobacco, firearms, or explosives, as far as I can tell."

          "Maybe not," AD Travis stated, drawing the attention of every man on Team Seven, "but Henri Stein has breached FBI _and_ ATF files, as well as others."

          "I hate to tell you, Orrin, but half of them are already on the Internet," the NSA contact said and sighed.

"In the process, Raptor killed one of our people," Travis continued, "a man who had access to _my_ files.  That means he's mucking around in _my_ operations.  _I_ want him."

Larabee couldn't help the small grin that curled his lips.  "So, this is personal, sir?"

"Damn right, it is," Travis snapped at him.  "Those files Raptor has?" he said, looking directly at Larabee.  "You and this team are in them."

That drained the color from the blond's face.  Why would Stein or Raptor want the files on Team Seven?  Not that it mattered.  It had suddenly become personal for him, too.

He glanced at Vin, catching the man's eyes for a moment, and felt a sudden chill race down his spine.  Whatever was going on, he had a bad feeling Tanner was going to end up in the middle of it somehow.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Close to the end of the day, Chris and Vin left work early, stopping by the hospital on their way home.  Nathan was with Raine, helping her get ready to go home.

"Hey, guys," Raine greeted when she saw them first.

"Hey, beautiful," Vin replied, going over to give the young woman a kiss on the cheek.

Nathan, grinning like a mad man, sobered when he saw Chris nod at the door.

"I'll be right back," Nathan said to Raine, then stepped out into the hallway with Chris.

Larabee gave him a quick rundown on what was happening, cautioning, "Since we don't know what this assassin wants with our files, I want you to be careful – extra careful."

Nathan nodded.  "You think I need to get Raine and Tanner out of town?"

Chris shook his head.  "I don't think so, but…"  He met the man's eyes.  "If you want to, you have my blessing.  Maybe it's for the best."

Nathan thought for a moment, then nodded.  "I think I will.  Otherwise, I'll just worry."

"Probably a good idea.  Where are you going to go?"

"Raine's cousin is living up in Greeley.  She's already called and said she wants to see Tanner.  Think we'll pay her a visit."

"Make sure someone has the number," Chris told him.

"I will," Nathan promised.  "The rest of you be careful, y' hear?"

Chris smiled.  "Aren't we always?"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Less than an hour later, the pair arrived at the ranch.  Being more cautious, Larabee parked close to the house, the two of them heading straight inside to look the place over.  Finding nothing out of the ordinary, they changed clothes and walked out to the barn.

Vin's gaze swept over the other buildings and he frowned.  "Never realized how easy it'd be t' find a perch here…"

          "You think a sniper like Raptor would come in this close?"

          Vin thought for a moment, looking around again, this time with different eyes.  "Reckon he'd have to.  No good high ground…  Tree line wouldn't give a good line of sight t' the house 'n' the barn…  Best place t' be would be up on the roof 'a the barn t' get a shot at the house, or the house for a shot at the barn."

          Chris nodded.  "Something we'll have to keep in mind."

          "Time t' get a dog or two," Vin decided.

          Chris chuckled.

          "What?" the sniper asked.

          "I had the same thought when I was stuck out here recuperating…  I think you might be right."

          After taking care of the chores, the two men headed back to the house, where they fixed and ate dinner, then settled in to relax in front of the television for a couple of hours, Chris ensconced in the corner of the sofa, Vin lying stretched out on it, his head resting on Larabee's thigh.

          When the blond saw his lover yawn for the third time in less than five minutes, he said, "Time for bed."

          "Mmm," Vin replied, a seductive smile curling the corners of his lips.

          Chris swatted his shoulder.  "You're falling asleep."

          "Could wake up real fast… if I wanted to."

          "Come on," Chris said, content to just climb into bed with Vin, which, twenty minutes later, he did.

          Tanner immediately snuggled up against him – spooning, as Sarah had called it – and Chris draped his arm over the younger man's shoulder.

          "'Night," Vin breathed.

          "Good night," Chris replied, feeling Vin's muscles going lax.  He leaned in and kissed Tanner's back, then closed his eyes and fell asleep, his last conscious thought:  _I'm happy, Sarah.  I really am…_

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Wednesday, 1:57 a.m.**

 

          The night was dark, a full moon hanging in the sky seemingly unable to cast enough light to penetrate the gloom that surrounded him.  In the distance wolves howled, and now and again he was sure he could hear them moving through the woods nearby, hunting.

          It was a dream.

And he recognized it, knew he'd dreamed it all before, but that did nothing to stop the evolving images.  So, like someone taking in an unfolding accident on the freeway, he continued to watch – from some bird’s-eye location – as he moved across the terrain, silently, carefully, his rifle in his hands, ready to be fired.

          He realized that his own voice was speaking outside of his head, like it was coming from yet another observer who floated over the scene, watching and commenting as it unfolded.

          _"Must be weird, gettin' paid t' pop some guy when he isn't lookin'.  Don't seem fair, if y' ask me…"_

          He and his dream self ignored the voice.  He watched his dream self sinking down onto one knee, raising the ring of the nightscope mounted on his rifle to his eye.  He peered through it, searching for… something.

No… some _one_.  His target.

          _"So what is it then, the thrill 'a the hunt?  The pleasure when y' get the shot 'n' y' kill someone?"_

          "I save lives," his dream self whispered to the voice, catching sight of his target, moving through the woods.

He waited… and waited… until… finally… the target glided into the center of his crosshairs and he pulled the trigger.  The report was loud in the darkness.

The target fell, and he knew it had been a killing shot.

          _"Confirm the kill,"_ his own voice commanded him.

          "That's yer job," he snarled back.

          _"Do it!"_

          He rose from his crouch, working his way forward, still silent, still careful.

          _"It's in the eyes, ain't it?  The first thing y' see through the scope."_

          He moved closer to the kill, easing up on the fallen man on the off chance that he was wrong, that the target was still alive, waiting for him.

When he finally reached the fallen man, his heart was beating frantically, and his palms were damp.  He didn't want to do what he had to do next, but there was no choice.  It was as if the voice was controlling his body, forcing him to do it regardless of what he wanted.

          He reached out, grabbed the man's vest at the shoulder, and rolled him over.

          He was looking down at himself.  His own bullet hole drilled right through his forehead.  His eyes were open, staring, but sightless.

          "Kill confirmed," he rasped.

          And, in the distance, a wolf howled…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Wednesday morning, 6:30 a.m.**

 

          Vin blinked his eyes open and stared up at the ceiling.  Damn, he'd had that dream again.  He _hated_ that fucking dream.

          The radio alarm had gone off, the sweet voice of Shania Twain filling the bedroom with promises of love.  He grinned and glanced over at Chris, who was lying there, watching him.

Vin shivered at the look in the older man's eyes, then snorted softly, remembering how he'd once thought that love was one thing he _wouldn't_ find in Denver.  Or, rather, _he_ had found it, but he'd never have it.  But then, that was the price he'd expected to pay for falling in love with his boss – his formerly married boss.  But Chris had turned out to be a lot more flexible than Vin had expected.

Without hesitation, he rolled over and snuggled his lover, hoping that would clear his head.  And he needed to clear his head.  He and the others had to track down the Raptor.

Chris wrapped his arm around Vin and asked quietly, "You okay?"

"Yeah," Vin sighed.  "Just had a dream I don't like much."

"Tell me?"

Vin shook his head.  "Ain't nothin'."

"It's something," Chris said, his hand rubbing up and down Tanner's back.

Vin closed his eyes and relaxed into the touch.  He felt his eyes begin to sting as he realized that this was the first time he'd been with someone he cared about when he'd had the dream.  It was the first time he'd had someone he could tell…

And so he did.  And Chris listened, holding him, comforting him until he was done.  Then they made love, using hands and mouths to bring each other to climax.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Less than an hour later, they were showered, dressed, and had eaten breakfast.

Vin checked his guns, slipped them into his holsters, then pulled on his black leather jacket.

"You riding in with me?" Chris asked.

Vin shook his head.  "'M gonna take the bike in."

"Be careful," Chris warned him.

Vin nodded, grinning slightly.  The Jeep was in the shop, again, and it looked like it wouldn't be back for at least a week.  At least the weather was clear, warm, and dry.  He just hoped it stayed that way.  But he knew if he needed to, he could put the bike in the back of the Ram and ride home with Chris.

He stopped short, reaching for the doorknob.  This _was_ home.  And he knew that, wherever Chris was, that would be his "home" from now on.

          As he pulled out of the driveway onto the road, he checked his watch.  It wouldn't do to be late for work today.  Travis wanted them to help the FBI bring down Stein and Raptor, and, given the fact that the assassin seemed to be interested in Team Seven, he was more than happy to do just that.

          Each of the men on the team, with the possible exception of JD, had more than enough skeletons in his closet to warrant a hit, but Chris – as the man in charge – was the logical target of choice.  And that was something Vin had no intention of letting happen.  Not after what had happened with Samuel Dower's daughter.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Federal Building**

**Offices of Team Seven**

**8:00 a.m.**

 

          "So, who was that Amazon blonde dropping you off this morning?" Josiah asked the ladies' man as Buck dropped into his chair behind his desk.

          "Don't ask, don't tell," Wilmington replied with a satisfied smile on his lips.  He waggled his eyebrows as he stretched out his legs and leaned back in his chair, looking like a sated big cat.

          JD walked past him, pausing to reach out and rub his finger over a patch of stubble on the big man's cheek.  "You missed a spot," he teased him.

          Buck's grin just got wider.  "She didn't," he gloated.

          Josiah shook his head.  JD rolled his eyes.  And Vin and Ezra tried to ignore the unfolding drama, but they exchanged amused glances.

          "So, this Raptor has our jackets, right?  Does that mean that we've been targeted?" JD asked them.

          "What do you think, JD?" Josiah asked him in his best classroom-teacher's voice, his eyes filled with half-concealed amusement.

          "Who'd want to kill one of us?" the young man asked in earnest bewilderment.

          The others all paused to stare at him, amazed once again by the young man's apparent naïveté.  Vin and Ezra both snorted softly, and this time it was Buck who rolled his eyes.  Josiah only grinned and shook his head again.

          JD thought for a moment, then blushed.  He shrugged and shook his head, saying, "All right, that was a pretty stupid question… I guess."

          Chris nodded his agreement with JD's assessment as he walked over to the collection of desks in what was fondly called "the bullpen."  "No guess about it."

          "So, Mr. Larabee, does this mean we are in the computer chip business, or the assassination business?" Ezra asked.

          "The _survival_ business," Vin answered for Chris, prompting various noises of agreement from the others.

          "We don't know what Raptor's ATF mole gave up before he was killed," Larabee told them.  He was holding what looked like a nylon bag for some kind of small, automatic weapon.  He put it down on Wilmington's desk.  "Our files might be part of a bigger plan."

          "It appears that this mission has become a three-headed beast," Standish said and sighed dramatically.

          "Cut off one head…" Vin told the undercover agent, then paused, waiting for the man to look up and meet his eyes.  "…y' better believe the other two _will_ bite'cha – right in the ass."

          The others weren't sure how to take that, and Chris spared them having to figure it out by stating, "Intel from the NSA and the FBI says Raptor and Stein are meeting later today to ink the deal on this hit of his.  JD?"

          "Okay," Dunne replied, "from what the NSA and the FBI gave us, Stein imports exotic cars – remodels some older ones, and fine-tunes the rest.  It's a legitimate business.  His warehouse, which is near Purgatorio, is heavily guarded, and it's swept for listening devices at least twice a day, so no one's been able to plant a bug."

"But we have this…" Larabee said, opening the nylon case on Buck's desk and pulling out what appeared to be a small, black, plastic rifle.

"Oh, cool!" JD said, his eyes rounding with excitement.  "A laser bug!"

"A what?" Vin asked, frowning at the device, which looked too much like a toy for his tastes.

"A laser bug," JD repeated, nearly bouncing with excitement in his chair.  "You target a window and the beam picks up the vibrations from inside," their young techno-geek explained.  "The window acts like a microphone, resonates…  Uh, never mind.  The important thing is, that doesn't leave a detectable radio signature the bug sniffers are going to pick up."

Larabee handed the device to Vin, who took it, hefting it like it was a weapon.  He thumbed on the laser and swept it over the room, getting a feel for the weight and the accuracy of the sight.  "So, what, I just have t' stay in the line 'a sight?" the sniper asked Dunne.

"Yeah," JD replied, jumping slightly when the laser light passed over his chest.  "Just point and eavesdrop."

"Not a problem," Vin said with a grin, swinging the laser back in Dunne's direction and making him jump a second time.

"Well, gentlemen, maybe we will get an opportunity to see what a _Raptor_ looks like," Standish remarked.

"Count on it," Larabee told him.  His gaze shifted to Vin, noting the dark smudges under the man's eyes.  That dream had rattled the man more than he'd let on.  "I want a complete rundown on the warehouse, and the surrounding area, in an hour," he told the men.  "We'll meet in the conference room and work out our game plan."

The others nodded, breaking off to begin their work.  As they did, Chris said, "Vin," and nodded to his office.

The sniper led the way and Larabee closed the door behind him.  He walked over and leaned back against his desk so he could get a better look at the sniper.  "You all right?" he asked him.

"Yeah, fine," Vin replied.  "That dream…  It pops up every so often…  Guess it just caught me off guard."

"All right," the blond said, grateful Vin had opened up and talked to him earlier.

Vin shrugged one shoulder.  "Just a bad dream, is all.  Ain't nothin' t' worry over."

"Well, we'll get to bed early tonight," Chris replied.

Tanner considered that for a moment, then grinned and nodded.  "Reckon we c'n find a way t' keep m' mind off it."

Larabee grinned.  "Oh, I'm sure we'll think of something," he agreed.  "You want to take that gizmo to the range?"

Vin shook his head.  "Sounds easy enough, just gotta find a good spot t' use it from, is all."

"All right," Chris replied.  "Go see what you can find."

Vin nodded and turned to leave, but the blond stopped him with a quiet, "Be careful."

The younger man stopped and looked back over his shoulder and, once again, Larabee was struck by just how young the sniper was, how young he looked.

"Hell, Larabee, careful's m' middle name."

"Damn well better be," Chris replied.

Vin flashed him a quick grin on his way out.  Chris watched Vin grab his jacket and head out, a foreboding feeling settling over him again.  He didn't like it, not one little bit.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Later that day**

**Stein's Warehouse**

 

          Stein's building was on the southern edge of Purgatorio, an area where Denver's new wave of urban renovation clashed against the lingering decay of the infamous inner-citty neighborhood.  North of Boulder Avenue, the old brick warehouses had mostly been converted into mixed-use communities, with lofts and apartments above trendy retail space – primarily bars, restaurants, art galleries, interior-design studios, and various clothing boutiques, along with a few professional offices.  A few of the old parking lots had been converted into new parking garages, the rest into green spaces intended for the health-conscious and dog-friendly residents, who quickly snapped up the affordable housing units as soon as they became available.

But south of Boulder Avenue, the buildings were still mostly untouched.  Many of the oldest nineteenth-century brick warehouses were boarded up, awaiting their chance at a new life and, in the meantime, providing shooting galleries for local addicts or shelters for many of the local homeless who prowled the streets of Purgatorio, looking for food, or a corner to panhandle the money necessary for a pint of beer.  Private security companies were making a killing, ensuring that the two communities never met somewhere along the busy avenue.

A few of the old buildings, those closest to the center of urban renewal, had been partially renovated, their historic exteriors left untouched, but their interiors gutted and rebuilt to house businesses, art galleries, and nightclubs.  Stein's building was one of these.  And, from the number of cars sitting in the small, fenced lot behind the warehouse, as well as those inside, being restored, Stein was doing a booming business.

The man had a small army of mechanics and other automotive experts working for him, preparing cars for his rich clientele – men and women who wanted to feel like they were driving a one-of-a-kind automobile.  He also had a small army of security people keeping watch over the building and the cars.

The members of Team Seven had observed the building for several hours, getting a feel for the general comings and goings of the customers and the employees, as well as a sense of where all the heavy security was positioned on and around the structure.  Once they knew that, they made their plans and repositioned themselves to keep the warehouse under surveillance until Raptor arrived.

Chris waited until he heard from all of his people, except Vin, who was standing beside him, lining up his position before he activated the laser bug.

"JD, ya ready?" Tanner asked over his lip mic.  "Stein just came int' the office."

"All set, Vin," JD replied.

"Okay, here goes nothin'," Vin said, switching on the laser and aiming it through the pane of a window in Stein's office.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Inside the building, Henri Stein was getting angry.  Raptor was late.

Vin watched through the scope on the laser bug as Stein stalked over to his computer and sat down, logging on to his e-mail account and checking to see if his contact for Raptor was also currently online.  He was, and an image of the man's face popped onto Stein's computer screen.  The small camera on top of Stein's machine was sending his image to the man as well.

"Where the hell is this guy?" Stein demanded, his voice clear on the receivers Larabee and JD were holding.  Dunne was in a small mobile command post, Larabee still beside Vin, determined to cover the sniper's back.

"Like I should know?" the man replied, his voice thickly accented, but still clear, thanks to the laser bug.  "I'm halfway around the world here."

" _You_ recommended him," Stein snapped.

"The guy uses an encrypted e-mail message routed through a dozen web servers.  I don't even know what the dude looks like.  Nobody does."

"All he's looking like right now is _late_ ," Stein barked.

"Not my problem, Henri," the contact replied.

"If he doesn't show up here in ten, I'll hire somebody to take care of _you!_ " Stein snarled.

"You need to take a stress pill and chill, Henri."

"I need action!" they heard Stein snap, then "Garr!" and the man fell silent.

As Larabee waited, he worried.  "Can the beam be spotted?" he softly asked JD via his own lip mic.

"The beam's only a half-millimeter wide.  You'd need a magnifying glass to see it," JD replied from their operations center, located in the back of a black Chevy Suburban parked in the closest of the new parking garages.

"How's the perimeter?" Larabee asked the others.

"Well, a no-brainer sticks his head out every once in a while, but that's it," Buck offered.  He was riding shotgun with JD and was sitting behind the wheel of the Suburban, a pair of high-powered binoculars in his hands so he could keep watch over the west side of the building.

"Same here," Josiah reported, covering the east side.  "Very low profile."

"Yes, I concur as well," Standish added, already bored with watching the south side of the building.  He was used to being on the inside on these missions, the undercover man, not spending his time doing surveillance work.

"Hang on," Josiah interrupted, watching as a tall, shapely blonde approached the building.  She stopped and knocked on one of the doors.  One of the guards opened the door and she stepped inside.

"A woman just entered the building – north side – alone," the profiler told them.

Larabee and the others waited.  Less than a minute later, Chris could hear the sound of her high heels ringing on the floor as she entered Stein's office.  He lifted a free scope to his eye and focused on the newcomer.

"Who are you?" the man snapped at her.  The woman was tall, shapely, her hair pulled back in a professional look.  She was wearing glasses that accentuated her icy blue eyes.

"Patrice Rolov.  I represent the man you know as Raptor."  Her voice was low, sultry, and slightly accented, although Larabee couldn't decide where she might be from.  She sounded vaguely Slavic, he thought.

"No kidding," Stein said, then chuckled softly to himself.

"Is this a problem, Mr. Stein?"

"I hire an assassin, and I get a secretary," the man replied, shaking his head.  Stein was tall and handsome, with longish dark hair and brown eyes.  In his late thirties, he was used to women appreciating his looks, and responding appropriately.

"My employer prefers to deal with his clients at arm's length," she said smoothly.

" _I_ prefer to deal face-to-face."

"It doesn't work that way," she told Stein firmly.  "If this arrangement isn't satisfactory, then our business is done," she concluded, turning and starting away.

"Whoa, easy!"

"Okay, Josiah, be ready to tail her when she comes out," Larabee announced over the mic.

"Wait!" Stein called.

The blonde stopped.

"Don't get passive-aggressive on me," he told her, his tone vaguely threatening.

"It's not passive.  It's not aggressive.  It's business."

She wasn't reacting at all the way he expected.  "Okay, okay…  Whatever."

She walked back over to Stein and handed him a slip of paper.  "Here is the account number for the deposit of funds.  You'll transfer half now, the rest tomorrow night."

Stein hesitated for a moment, but as soon as the woman made to leave again, he huffed out a sigh and walked over to his computer and logged in to his bank account, making the electronic transfer.  As he did, the woman walked slowly around his office, her gaze sweeping over everything.

"So, what's your percentage of the million dollars?" Stein asked her, typing in the Swiss account number when prompted.

"That is between me and my accountant," she replied coolly.

"Of course," Stein replied.  "Your accountant must be a very clever man," he told her as she stopped to admire his small, octagonal, saltwater aquarium.  A lionfish hung in the water, sizing her up.  "You certainly can't report your earnings to the government," he added.

She frowned and removed the stylish glasses she was wearing when she caught sight of the refracted laser beam in the water.

"I'm sure he must spend most of his time looking for the kind of investment—"  He stopped when she turned and raised her finger to her lips, then gestured for him to join her.

Outside, on the roof of the building where Larabee and Tanner stood, Chris reached up and touched the receiver that was in his ear, frowning at the sudden silence.

When Stein joined her, she looked at the beam, Stein following her gaze and catching sight of it as well.  She sighed softly, almost sadly, and turned, walking straight to the exit.

"Something's wrong," Chris said quietly.

Vin nodded.

"Wait!" Stein called, then grabbed the walkie-talkie that was setting on his desk and snapped into it, "Hans, sweep the perimeter!"

"Heads up," Buck said as he watched several men exiting the building, all of them armed.

"Buck, what's up?" Larabee demanded.

"You've been made, stud," the ladies' man replied.

"Let's go," Larabee said to Vin, and the sniper was immediately moving.

"I lost the signal," JD announced as soon as Tanner released the trigger, terminating the laser beam.

"Time to go, people – everybody pull back," Larabee announced over his lip mic.

"What about Raptor's handler?" Buck asked him.

"Cover yourselves first," Chris snapped, he and Vin packing the laser bug and heading quickly to the edge of the building they were on.

"I can do that," Wilmington replied, turning the key in the ignition and heading the Suburban to the exit of the parking garage.

As Vin and Chris neared the location where they had made their climb up to the roof, two of Stein's men appeared.

"Josiah, we have a flag and a play up here," Larabee announced into his lip mic, his voice strained, but not panicked.

"Roger that, I'm on the way," Sanchez replied, pulling away from the curb.  He was in Larabee's black Ram pickup truck and he headed straight to the location where he'd dropped the two men off earlier.  "Coming around in twenty seconds," he announced.

On the roof, Stein's two men opened fire, even though they were too far away to make anything but a lucky shot.  Chris and Vin didn't bother returning fire, concentrating instead on reaching their ropes as quickly as possible.  They hooked themselves up.

"Let's fly, pard!" Vin said as he and Larabee went over the edge of the roof, rappelling straight down, and right into the bed of Chris' Ram.  They each hit the quick release on the rappel line.

"Go!" Chris yelled at Josiah, slamming his palm against the rear cab window.

Above them, the two men reached the edge of the roof where Chris and Vin had disappeared and leaned over, firing down at the retreating Ram.  But the two agents were both lying curled up on the truck bed, pressed up against the sides of the truck to present the smallest targets possible.

"Hot damn!" Tanner yipped, flashing Larabee a huge smile.

Chris shook his head, but he had to grin as well.  Close, but no cigar for the bad guys.  Not this time, at least.  "You're a damn adrenaline junkie, Tanner."

Vin just continued to grin.  "What, y' getting too old t' enjoy the rush?" he teased.

"I'll show you too old," he growled back, realizing that he was half hard.

"I'll hold ya t' that promise… old man."

Chris shot the younger man a glare.  "Keep it up…"

"Exactly m' idea."

Larabee snorted and shook his head.  Impossible.  The man was impossible.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          A few minutes later, Team Seven was back at a deserted parking lot in Purgatorio, the same place they had started out earlier.

          "Everybody all right?" Larabee asked them, looking from man to man.

          The others all nodded.  They talked for a bit, deciding that the blonde woman must have spotted the laser beam in the water of the fish tank.

          Chris noticed Vin didn't seem to be paying attention to the conversation, and asked, "Vin, you have something to add?"

          Tanner's head jerked around.  It took a moment, like he was processing the words for a second time before he said, "Somethin' don't feel right 'bout this," he replied, shaking his head, his gaze sweeping the area.  It felt like there was a pair of crosshairs on him, and he didn't like it, not one little bit.  It brought the images from the dream flooding back.

          "Undetectable laser?" Ezra questioned accusingly, looking straight at JD.  He hoped it might redirect the conversation.

          " _Almost_ undetectable," Dunne corrected the undercover man and shrugged.  "Hey, it was the best we had."

          "Worked fine, too," Buck said.  "We just got unlucky."

          "Or she's good… damn good," Vin told him.

          Chris frowned.  "We know the hit's going down.  We have to find out who the target is."  And, as he said it, he worried that it might be Vin.  He felt his chest tighten.  He couldn't lose Vin.  There was no way he could lose Vin.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          On a nearby rooftop, the blonde woman used a sniper's scope to watch the seven men in the parking lot.  In one hand, she absently twirled a large silver coin through her fingers, a predatory smile on her lips.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Back in his warehouse, Stein paced among his mechanics, checking on their progress with the various cars currently on the floor, trying to wear off some of his simmering anger.

A young Hispanic man startled as Stein passed by, sending the chrome grille he was working on clattering to the floor.

Stein stopped and stared at the man, then started toward him, lifting his arm and holding up his index finger.

          "How many fingers am I holding up?" he asked the nervous mechanic.

          "Uh, wa-one," the man replied, looking half-confused, half-scared.

          "That's how many weeks you've been here.  That's how many chances you have left.  Understand?"

          The man nodded, swallowing hard and immediately returning to his work, beginning to polish the grille all over again.  Stein watched him for a brief moment, then turned and started back to his office, but before he'd gotten very far, Raptor's front woman joined him.

          "Where did you go?" he demanded, his voice pitched low so it didn't carry to the men working on the warehouse floor.

          "I had to report to Raptor.  He isn't happy about this morning's breach of your security."

          "He's not the only one," Stein growled.  "Come on," he told her, nodding toward his office.

          The pair headed off to Stein's office, the young Hispanic man watching them as they left, a thoughtful expression on his face.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "So?" Stein asked when they were alone in his office.

          "Your lack of proper security may force him to cancel the job," the blonde replied matter-of-factly.

          "A man with his reputation gets hinky?"  Stein was incredulous.

          "Raptor's reputation is not your concern," she told him coldly, blue eyes narrowed.  "But he does want to know who knows your business."

          "Competitors, probably.  Nothing to get nervous about."

          "Any potential threat to my employer makes me very nervous, Mr. Stein."

          "Well, if your employer has a problem…"

          "No problem," she replied, "just a desire to know who might be trying to interfere."

          "As I said, competitors."

          "Federal agents, more likely," she said.  "If you continue to lie to me, then this business meeting is over."

          He smiled.  He was beginning to like her.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Federal Building**

**Team Seven Offices**

 

          "How'd you do this?" Josiah asked, watching the exchange between Stein and the blonde woman he had seen earlier this morning.

          JD was seated at his computer, watching the conversation through the camera on the top of Stein's computer.  "I used a sniffer to find the IP address of his T1, broke through the firewall, used a proxy server, and – thanks to a security bug in his browser – was able to upload an applet that made his camera and microphone go live, sending the data stream here."

          Josiah hesitated for a moment, not sure he had understood a word the man just said, but he grinned and commented, "You're scary, JD Dunne, you know that, don't you?"

          JD glanced up at the man, grinning.  "Yeah, I know.  Why don't you tell Buck that for me?"

          Josiah shook his head.  "Oh, no, I'm not getting in between the two of you."  He walked over to his desk, picked up his radio and keyed the mic, asking, "How's the view outside?"

          "Considering the distance, pretty good," Buck replied.  He was lying on the top of a warehouse roof several hundred yards from Stein's, with a camera outfitted with an extra-high-powered telephoto lens.  Through the lens, he was able to keep a close eye on the comings and goings on two sides of the building.

          "The same can be said here," Ezra said.  He was on another rooftop, armed with an identical camera and lens, and doing the same thing with the other two sides of the building.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "…you might need this," Stein said, handing the blonde an envelope.

          She started to open it, saying, "It's the only reason I came back.  The plate number?"

          "And the make and model… even his shoe size.  He arrives at nine o'clock.  I'll be there."

          "No, you won't," she told him quickly.  "Raptor doesn't work with an audience."

          "Yeah?" Stein said and sneered, "Well, I'm paying for the front-row seat.  This hit is a message to the feds who keep screwing with me.  I want to see it delivered – in person."

          She met his eyes, then turned and started out.

          "Where the hell are you going?" Stein demanded.

          She paused and turned back to face him.  "Shopping," she replied, the ghost of a smile on her lips.  "Accessories are everything."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "She's on her way out," Josiah said into the radio.

          "Copy that," Buck replied, peering through the telephoto lens.  "Come out, come out, wherever you are…"

          "Roger," was Ezra's more taciturn reply.

          Then, as they continued to watch, the blonde exited the warehouse on Buck's side.

          "Got her," Wilmington crowed as he snapped off several shots before she climbed into a white SUV.  He snapped a picture of the license plate as she turned and headed down the road toward him.  "Okay, boys, I have a plate… Colorado, Two - Alpha - Bravo – Mike – five - four - three, a white Ford Explorer.  She's heading out… east, on Golden Avenue."

          JD immediately entered the plate number into their database that tapped the Colorado Department of Motor Vehicles.

          "I'll catch her when she crosses Boulder," came Larabee's voice over the radio.

          "The vehicle is a rental," JD announced, "registered to… Patrice Rolov."

          "Rolov…  Russian," Ezra said.

          "I'm on her six now," Larabee announced.

          "Patrice Rolov comes up a blank," JD said after grabbing his radio and keying the mic.

          "It's an alias," Ezra said into his own radio.

          "Vin," Larabee said, "give me five minutes, then you pick her up."

          "Roger that," Tanner replied as he passed Larabee, who was driving Jackson's brown and beige Ford Explorer.  The sniper was riding his motorcycle, a 1958 FL Duo-Glide.

          "Chris," JD said, looking at Ezra, "if Rolov is an alias, then it's a good one.  She's got a driver's license, credit cards… but they lead… absolutely nowhere."  He threw up his hands in frustration.

"Shit!" Larabee snapped.

"Have you lost her?" Josiah asked him.

          "No, I'm still with her," Chris replied.  "Just another idiot on the road…  She's turning left on… Lakewood Boulevard."

          "Traffic report shows all clear ahead," JD offered.

          "Hang on, she's turning again," Chris said a moment later.  "Nice… old evasive maneuver…"

          "Did she make you?" Vin asked him.

          "No, I don't think so, but if I follow her, she will.  This could be our only chance.  I don't want to blow it by getting spotted.  Vin, pick her up in the alley right before Englewood Drive."

          "Roger that," Tanner replied.  And then, a few moments later, he announced, "We're back in business.  She's headed south on Aurora."

          "Keep it up, gentlemen, I believe I'm on to something," Ezra announced.

          "Well, Ez, what've you got?" Buck asked him over his radio.

          "I'll let you know in a moment," the undercover man said, thinking furiously.

JD and Josiah exchanged looks as they waited for more.

          "Heads up, she's pullin' into a Pep Boys," Vin announced.

          "Auto parts, for a rental?" Josiah questioned.

          "Maybe her boss has something planned for his victim's car," JD offered.

          "She's parkin'," Tanner told them.

          "Keep your distance, Vin," Chris warned him.

          Tanner watched as a man with long blond hair exited the vehicle.  "Damn it!" he hissed.  "I dropped the ball," he said.  "We lost her…  Damn, she _is_ good."

          "Either Raptor's trained her very well, or—"

          "I know exactly what you're thinking, Mr. Larabee," Ezra interrupted.  "And you are quite correct.  Patrice Rolov – it's an anagram for Veloci Raptor.  _She's_ the assassin."

 

* ~* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**An underground parking garage**

**Denver, Colorado**

**5:00 p.m.**

 

          A nondescript Honda hatchback pulled into the almost-empty top floor of a parking garage and rolled to a stop not far away from a red Ford Explorer.  A man climbed out, greeting the beautiful blonde woman waiting for him with a casual, "Good evening."

He went around to the back of the car and popped the hatch.

          She walked over to stand next to him, bending slightly to set a briefcase she was carrying on the ground beside her.

The soft-looking man, in his late forties and well on his way to completely bald, tossed back a blanket that covered several high-powered sniper rifles in the back of the Honda.

"This one," she said, pointing to the Remington 700.

          He reached in and picked it up, then handed it to her, saying, "Excellent choice."

          She tested the weapon's weight in her hands and then lifted it, pressing her eye to the ring of the scope.  She tested the pull on the trigger and then nodded to him as she handed it back.

          "I'll just be a minute," she said, picking up the briefcase and walking over to set it on top of one of the many trash cans scattered throughout the parking structure.  As she did, the man slipped the rifle into a carrying case and zipped it up, then turned to watch her.

She opened the briefcase and took off her matching suit jacket and skirt, her black lace teddy giving him a teasing glimpse of her curvaceous body.  On a long silver chain hanging around her neck was the same large silver coin she had been twirling through her fingers as she watched Team Seven regroup earlier that day.

Over the teddy, she pulled a sheer black dress with hand-embroidered floral patterns strategically positioned to obscure the view of her breasts and groin.  She folded the skirt and jacket, placing them into the briefcase, and then reached up and removed the clasp that had been holding her hair back.  She shook the thick blonde locks out so they cascaded over her shoulders.

After pulling the dress down over the small Glock she was wearing in an upper thigh holster, she closed the briefcase and picked it up, along with her purse, then walked back over to the gun dealer.

"Do you mind getting rid of these for me?" she asked him, handing him the briefcase and adding, "Your money's inside."

He accepted the case, saying, "That coin around your neck, I recognize it."

"Really?" she asked him, her head tilting slightly to the side.

"I did business with a guy who had one just like it."

"Did you?" she asked, snapping the coin free of the circle of silver that held it.

The dealer chuffed once, noting the change in her eyes, the coldness that had taken over.  "Probably a coincidence," he said, chuckling a little nervously.

"I'm not sure I believe in coincidence.  Things happen because they're supposed to," she told him, twirling the silver coin through her fingers as he watched it, mesmerized.  "Moments of crisis, when the whole world seems to slow down…  It's hard to judge the passage of time in those moments," she told him, her voice also pitched to hold his attention.  "That's what I use this for," she said, pointing it at him as she held the coin between her second and index fingers.  He swallowed hard.  "It's a yardstick, a benchmark for time," she added, taking the rifle from him and walking over to her Explorer to slide it onto the front seat.

She closed the door of the SUV and turned to face the man.  Then, stepping up to a metal beam running along the wall of the garage so as to create a six-inch shelf, she set the coin to spinning on its edge and added, casually, "When this stops spinning, you will be dead."

The dealer bolted like a rabbit from cover, heading straight to his car with the briefcase clutched to his chest.  She watched him go, a small smile on her face.

He threw the case into the car and climbed in, starting the Honda and speeding away so quickly that the tires squealed on the concrete floor.

She reached into her purse and removed a small transmitter, pointed it at the fleeing car, and pressed the button.  A moment later, the car was enveloped in flames as the briefcase exploded.  The wreckage crashed into the wall of the garage and continued to burn.

She reached out, catching the coin as the impact of the car striking the wall of the garage knocked it off.  Dropping the transmitter back into her purse, she slipped the coin back into its silver circle and then walked around to the driver's side of the Explorer, climbing in and driving away before anyone came to see what the explosion had been about.

No one paid any attention to her as she rolled up, paid for her time, and pulled out into traffic.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**The same time**

**Federal Building**

 

          JD stared at the image of the darkened office coming in from Stein's computer.  He yawned.  "I feel like I'm waiting for the Energizer Bunny to roll by," he complained.

          "What's it look like outside?" Chris asked as Buck and Josiah came walking back into the office after making a circuit around the federal building.

          "All clear," the profiler replied.

          Buck added, "If you don't count the thousands of people who live and work down here."

          "Well, keep your eyes open," Larabee said and sighed.

          Buck grinned.  "Any killer babes, I'll let you know right away," he promised and the three men smiled and chuckled softly.

Chris turned away from them so they could continue coordinating the security in and around the federal building.  He walked back over to where JD sat at his desk, Vin nearby, his hip hitched up onto the corner of his desk, his arms folded over his chest.  He looked sexy in a deadly way that was starting to make Larabee's blood warm whenever he saw it.

          "She's baiting us," he muttered, more to himself than the others.

          "Think she'll still go for Stein's target?" JD asked him.

          "Oh, yeah," Larabee replied.  "She's a professional.  She'll do her job, then come back for the bonus points."

          "Why do you do that?" JD asked Tanner, who was twirling a .70-caliber shell through his fingers.

          The sniper pointed it at Dunne and said, "Helps me think."

          Buck snorted.  "About what?"

          Vin thought for a moment, then said simply, "Things."

          "How inscrutable," Ezra commented dryly.  "You should write fortune cookies, Mr. Tanner."

          Vin turned to face the undercover man.  "Enjoy life," he said, pointing the shell at him this time.  "Eat out… more often."

          Standish smiled.  "That, Mr. Tanner, is not a missive for a fortune cookie, but rather a doggie bag."

          "Whatever," Vin replied, grinning at Larabee.

The shared moment sent a sting of desire into the older man's groin and he shook his head.  When this was over, he was going to screw Tanner through the bed.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Stein's warehouse**

 

          The young Hispanic man sat at a diagnostic computer, checking the computer chips he had found inside the onboard computer of one of Stein's imported cars.  He thought he'd finally found what he'd been sent there to find – the Magellan chip.

          He reached in and removed the motherboard with the chip, smiling for the first time in a week.  But he had no sooner straightened before a gun was shoved into his face by one of Stein's guards and he was roughly escorted to the man's office.

          The guard handed Stein the motherboard.

          "So, you like electronics," Stein said.  "You should come over to my place, and set up my VCR."

          "I was just working on the car," the young man replied, beginning to struggle as the two guards tightened their grips on him.

          "If I'd known you were a fed, I wouldn't have given you health insurance," Stein told him, turning the motherboard over in his hands.  He looked up, moving toward the captive, saying, "It looks like the main CPU of a very expensive car… and it is.  But inside… it's Magellan code."  He carefully removed the chip and held it up for the agent to see.  The man met Stein's eyes, his expression defiant.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Offices of Team Seven**

**Federal Building**

 

          "Hey!  Guys!  C'mere, quick!" JD barked.

          The agents who were there hurried to join him at his computer.  JD was already on the phone, taking to someone.  He hung up, saying, "Looks like the FBI got in a little deeper than they wanted," as he nodded to the screen, where they could see what was happening in Stein's office.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "It's laughable, how incompetent you FBI people are," Stein was saying to the man.

          "That chip will destroy a lot of lives," the young man said.

          "Awesome, huh?" Stein asked.  He set the chip down on his desk and then turned to face the captured agent.  "Listen, when I see your boss tonight, I'll tell him you did your best… but it wasn't good enough."  He turned back, picking up a silenced handgun.

          "Go to hell," the agent hissed.

          Stein raised the gun.  "You first," he said, and then he pulled the trigger.

          The agent jerked in the guards' grips, then dropped to the floor.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Lord Almighty," Vin said softly.

          JD was pale, his hands shaking slightly.  "His boss…  Timothy Johnson, Intermountain West Assistant Director, FBI."

          "Well, now we have Raptor's target," Chris said, shaking his head.  What a stinking waste.  "Let's keep our heads down, people, we're targets, too."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**LoDo (Lower Downtown)**

**8:50 p.m.**

 

          TThe American Association of Law Enforcement Officers’ Charity Dinner was in full swing as it neared nine p.m.

          On a rooftop near the swank hotel where the dinner was taking place, Raptor readied the weapon she had acquired from the now-deceased gun dealer.  She primed the chamber and turned on the night scope, double-checking the range.

          The blonde had already been to the rooftop earlier in the day and she knew the exact distance of the shot she would have to make.  But it paid to be cautious.

          Satisfied that she was ready, she used the scope to check the license plate numbers of the limos dropping off the heads of various law enforcement agencies, until she found the one she was waiting for.  Right plate number, right make and model of vehicle…  The kill was close.

          On other rooftops near the hotel, most of the members of Team Seven were also deployed, looking for Raptor.  Ezra was in one location, closer to the assassin than he realized.  On another building, Vin was checking through the scope of his own rifle, looking for any signs of Raptor.  Beside him, JD used night binoculars to do the same.

          Josiah and Nathan were in the hotel where the event was taking place, both on the top floor, looking for the woman.

          Buck was on the street level, keeping an eye on the arrivals.

          "No activity, sector one," Josiah announced.

          "Sector two clear as well," Ezra announced.

          "Nothing in sector three," JD said into his lip mic.

          "Heads up, boys, here he comes," Buck said, seeing the AD's limo pulling up outside the hotel.

          "Come on, come on," Ezra chanted softly, using his own night binoculars to try and find the assassin.

          Raptor was focused on the man climbing out of the target's car.  Right general height and weight…  The hair color seemed off, but he could have had it dyed recently for vanity's sake…  Then the target turned so she could see his face, and she frowned and jerked slightly in reaction.  Chris Larabee?  How could they have possibly known?

          "Sector three, ten o'clock," Vin rasped into his lip mic when he caught sight of the blonde.  "I got her," he said.

          "Take the shot," JD and Buck said simultaneously.

          Vin gently squeezed the trigger of his rifle and watched as Raptor was thrown back away from her own rifle, but he knew it hadn't been a kill shot.  Having to place the shot between two decorative pipes that made up a railing on top of the small, three-foot wall that ran around the top of the roof, he had only caught her with a glancing blow to the side of her protective bulletproof vest.

          "Nice shot, Vin," JD said, "but she's still vertical.  Our angle here is too high."

          The sniper cursed softly under his breath.

          "I have her," Ezra said as he left his position, heading for where he had heard a grunt when she was hit.

          "Spread out, I want her," Chris said on his lip mic, already moving toward the building.

          "Let's go," JD said, clapping Tanner on the shoulder.  They moved out, listening as Josiah and Nathan also began to move in to seal off Raptor's escape routes.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Being the closest, Ezra knew he would reach the assassin first.  He moved toward the side of the structure where he knew the woman had been set up to take her shot, his Walther P99 in his hands and ready to fire.  Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, the blonde appeared in his peripheral vision, her clasped hands striking his arm.  He felt a bone break and his fingers sprang open in reaction.  His gun clattered to the rooftop even as the assassin stepped in front of him, her knee coming up to his midsection as her hand shot out, grabbing his shoulder and jerking him into the strike.

          Pain had numbed his reactions after the initial blow, but some primitive part of his mind that demanded he survive kicked in and he twisted away, taking the worst of her attack on his hip.

          They both lashed out with their fists.  She was strikingly beautiful, he realized, even as his foot snapped out in a kick that she was able to avoid.  He cursed himself for not spending more time with the others in the dojo.

He drove forward, punching again, but she was spinning away from him, her leg coming up tight against her body and then thrusting out, catching him in the abdomen because he didn't want to block the blow with his broken arm.

He went down, but immediately pushed himself up.  Not fast enough, though.  She pursued her advantage, rushing in to strike him again.

Ezra threw a wild punch, hoping to hold her back, but she blocked it easily, her foot snapping out to catch him in the chest – a blow he was able to partially block.  But her hand shot out, grabbing the back of his neck so she could pull him over and thrust her knee into his face.

He reacted, his good arm shooting up and over the one she used to hold his neck.  Jerking himself to the side, his arm reaching across her, he was able to roll her shoulder in the direction he was moving and force her over.  Broken arm or not, he knew this was his best chance to end this now, before she killed him, and he tried to use it to hold her down.  But the pain that exploded up his arm made him weak and she was able to jerk her elbow up, forcing him to lurch back to avoid being hit in the face.

She scrambled forward, free again.

Where were the others?  Panic flared along his nerves as she immediately drove back toward him, her foot snapping out, and her fists following.  He took a blow to the face, his nose erupting with blood even as he saw an opening and drove his good arm out, his fist slamming into her midsection.  She stumbled back, gasping for air.

Knowing he had no choice but to pursue the attack, he pushed himself up, fist striking a second time, catching her in the face, then snapping back, grabbing her long blonde ponytail and jerking her face forward as his knee came up to meet it.

But somehow she avoided the blow, twisting away.  He raised his fist to hit her again, but she was coming at him too swiftly.  He adjusted, used her attack to catch her and flip her over onto her back on the graveled rooftop.  His lungs burned and he gulped air, trying to fill them.  Had she struck him again?  He wasn't sure.  Pain was making it impossible to think.

She rolled away from him, coming up onto her feet.  So beautiful, he thought, and yet so deadly.  He had never expected to be killed by a woman.

His hand flashed down to the web belt he wore and pulled the knife from its sheath.  It was all he had left to defend himself with, and he knew he wasn't very good with it.  Not like Nathan, or Chris.  A shame they hadn't been the ones here.

She had one as well, and the break in the fight had given her the time she needed to pull it free.

They circled each other, his broken arm held up to protect his neck and chest, his other arm using the knife to cut arcs in the air, trying to hold her back.  Surely the others would get there any moment…

Then she struck, faster in his eyes than she really was, the blade arcing down toward the shoulder of his good arm.  He used his broken arm to deflect the blow, howling in pain as he did.  But he struck back at the same time, his reflexes slowed by the agony shooting from his arm into his shoulder and neck.

She grabbed his hand and turned his attack back on himself, forcing him to embed the knife into his own thigh.

He screamed.

Her fists lashed out, striking him, driving him down onto the rooftop.  He fell onto his back, knowing that he wasn't going to be able to get up this time.

He heard, more than actually saw, her scrambling across the gravel on the surface of the roof and realized that she was looking for the gun he had dropped.  His vision cleared as she found it, lifting it to point it at him even as he somehow managed to sit up.  His hand closed around the hilt of the knife embedded in his leg.

"So… I'm the one you're after," he managed, drawing the blade free, gasping as he did.

"No, but now that you have pissed me off…" she snapped, her accent thicker now as she sighted the gun.

He didn't think, he reacted, hurling the knife at her.  And, to his great surprise, it sank into her upper arm.  She stumbled backward from the blow, her arms flailing out at her sides as she tried to regain her balance.  Then she was turning, diving over the edge of the rooftop like a swimmer leaving the block for a race.

She was gone.

He collapsed forward, exhaustion and agony making it impossible to hold himself upright any longer.  But he had to know.

He crawled forward through the coarse gravel to the small wall that ran around the edge of the roof.  Pulling himself up, he tried to look over it to see if she had fallen to her death, or if a balcony had saved her.  But he just didn't have the strength to do it.  He sagged onto the short wall.  Then, the glint of something shiny caught his swelling eye and he fumbled for it with numbed fingers.

A coin?

          Yes, it was some kind of a coin…  And then he recognized it.  It was a Hong Kong dollar.  His strength deserted him and he slid back off the wall, dropping to the rooftop once more, the silver dollar clutched tightly in his hand.

          "Ezra!"

          Someone was calling to him, but he couldn't answer them; darkness was rushing up at him, sweeping over him like some invisible surf, pulling him away from the voice, away from the pain…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The first thought to flash through Buck's mind was a question:  How could so much damage have take place in such a short period of time?  It had taken him and Chris less than seven minutes to reach the rooftop, but there were no signs of Raptor, and Ezra was lying on the ground, looking like he'd tangled with the Terminator.

          "We need an ambulance!" Chris barked into the mic, he and Buck heading straight for Ezra.  He dropped down, watching as Wilmington checked the man's pulse.  "She's gone.  Repeat, Raptor's gone.  Seal off the building.  Find her!"

          "Ezra, where you hurt?" Buck asked, trying to see if the man was bleeding.

          They could both already hear the wail of an approaching siren.

          "Doesn't look like he was shot," Buck said.  "But she sure kicked the shit out of— Damn, I have blood," he said, finding the leg wound.  He reached down, pulling a field dressing from a large pocket on his black pants and tying it over the bleeding wound.

          "Don't move him," Chris said.  "Let the medics check him over first.  He could have a neck injury."

          The ladies' man nodded.  "Yeah, okay…  Hell, anything could be hurt."  He shook his head.  "She's good."

          "She's dead," Larabee vowed.  He reached out, gently taking hold of Standish's upper arm.  "Hang in there, Ezra," he told the man.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Summit Hospital and Trauma Center**

**Two hours later**

 

          Larabee and the others stood as Dr. Daniel Chandler stepped into the ER waiting room.  Dan was a familiar face, having treated most of them at one time or another.  He was a tall man, a little on the thin side, mid-thirties, with thick, reddish-brown hair – that always looked like he was in need of a haircut – and dark brown eyes.  He was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved, navy blue T-shirt under his white coat.  Hiking boots were his preferred footgear.

          He was speaking as soon as he reached them.  "Some nasty bruises, one cracked radius, two cracked ribs, the knife wound was all flesh, so it's going to take some time to heal, but that's not the worst part," he told them without preamble.

          "What's the worst part, Doc?" Vin asked him, looking worried now.  The initial list had left them all looking relieved, but there was more?

          "The boot marks on his ass… from where he's been kicking himself," Dan concluded dryly.  "I take it one of the bad guys got away?"

          Larabee nodded, but there was just the hint of a smile on his lips.  There had been a time, not so very long ago, that he would have thought it impossible for Ezra to care like that, but the man had become a team player, one of _his_ men, his _team_ , and he was proud of him.  "Nothing worse?"

          Dan shook his head.  "We're going to keep him here tonight, keep an eye on that puncture wound.  If all goes well, he can go home tomorrow afternoon, but he's probably going to need some in-home help for a few days."

          There was a collective sigh of relief.

          "He can stay at my place," Josiah offered and Chris nodded.

          "Oh, I almost forgot.  He was clutching this in his hand," the doctor told them, fishing into his pocket and pulling out the Hong Kong dollar, then handing it to Chris.  "I thought you might need that for whatever it is you're working on."

          "Thanks, Doc," Larabee said, but he had no idea what it was, or what it meant.  "When can we see him?"

          "Give us a few minutes to get him moved into a room, and I'll let you know where he—"  Chandler was interrupted as a nurse joined them.

          She smiled at them, recognizing them as well.  "Mr. Standish is in room two-thirty," she told them.

          "Just remember, he needs his rest," Chandler told them as they started for the elevators.

          "Thanks, Dan," Chris said, stopping to shake the man's hand.

          "No problem," the physician replied.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          A few minutes later, they were all gathered in Ezra's room.  The man looked better, now that he was cleaned up, but the bruises on his face, the cast on his arm, and the brace on his leg left him looking like an ad for a personal injury attorney.

          "Did you catch her?" he asked them as soon as they entered the room.

          Chris shook his head.  "She slipped past us."

          Ezra closed his eyes and sighed heavily.  "Damn."

          "Yeah," JD agreed.  "How about you?"

          "They say I will be fine," Standish replied, his green eyes blinking open.  Looking up at the six worried faces was better medicine than anything the staff at the hospital could give him.  These men actually cared about him.

          "Dan says you'll probably be able to go home tomorrow," Chris told him.

          "And that you might need some help for a few days," Josiah added.  "You're welcome to stay with me.  Or I can come over to your place for a couple of days, if you'd prefer."

          Ezra's eyes rounded with surprise.  "Th— Thank you, Mr. Sanchez, either would be acceptable."

          "Look, the doctor says you need to rest," Chris said.  "I'm going to have some officers stationed outside your—"

          "I wasn't Raptor's target," Ezra interrupted him.

          "You weren't?" JD asked.

          Ezra shook his head.  "And she didn't say who was, I'm afraid.  Keep your heads down, gentlemen."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Federal Building**

**Offices of Team Seven**

 

          An hour later, the five men were scattered around the office, Chris pacing, Buck and JD both leaning back against Dunne's desk, Josiah sitting at his desk, and Vin, removed slightly from them, sitting on the top of his own desk, his feet swinging slightly.

          "So, if Ezra wasn't Raptor's secondary target, who was?" Larabee asked them.

          "Me," Tanner said softly.

          The others all turned to look at him.

          "You?  How do you know?" Chris asked him, suddenly worried.  All the bad feelings he'd had about this case suddenly came flooding back and he felt cold fingers of worry squeeze his heart.

          Vin held up the silver dollar Dr. Chandler had given them, wiggling it back and forth between his thumb and index finger.

          "That?" Chris asked him, confused now.  "What is it?"

"Seven years ago…" Vin started, and the others made the quick mental calculation – back when Vin had been a sniper in the US Army.  "…this hung 'round the neck of an Austrian who called himself the Dragon," Tanner continued, his voice more deeply accented than usual.  "His plan was t' blow up a room full 'a world leaders.  One shot… I took the man down…"

Chris nodded, knowing that would have been Vin's job.  And Tanner was good, damn good, at whatever he did.

"His, uh, body… flopped 'round on the ground… like a turkey with his damn neck snapped," Vin continued, his gaze turned inward as he recalled the events of that day.  "They do that sometimes…"

Josiah nodded, having seen something like that several times over his own long career.

"This little girl… teenager," Vin corrected himself, "came over t' him… yellin', screamin', cryin'…"  He looked up, meeting Chris' eyes, and the blond swallowed hard, already seeing where this was going.  "Was his daughter," Tanner stated.  "She weren't the Raptor then… just a scared little girl who'd watched her daddy die."

JD glanced away, shaking his head.

"Guess she's back t' settle old debts," Vin concluded.

The muscles in Larabee's jaw jumped.  There was no way in hell he was going to let that happen.

"Hey, guys," JD said, frowning and sliding off his desk.  He slipped around to his chair and dropped into it, staring at his computer.  "Get over here, quick."

The others, except Vin, moved to crowd in behind JD.  On his monitor was the open data stream to Stein's desktop.  And on it, Raptor was easing herself into a chair in front of the computer.  The room was dark, and she leaned back, obviously willing to wait.  She looked almost as bad as Ezra.  Her face was bruised, a butterfly stitch holding a cut above her eye closed.  A thick bandage was wrapped around her upper right arm.

"Looks like Ezra did more damage than he thought," Buck commented.

A few minutes later, Stein stalked into the room.  "You?" he snapped when he got his first good look at her.  "Who do I ask for a refund, _you_ or your alter ego?"

She looked up at him, her eyes cold, then she stood.  "They knew I was coming.  Your organization has a leak."

"You blew it," Stein hissed back at her.  "You owe me."

"Yes," she snarled back, "I do."

She turned and typed something on the computer, then tapped the enter key.

JD's screen turned blue.  "Damn," he yelped, "feed's gone."

"Doesn't matter," Chris said.  "It's time to take her down.  Vin knows her MO, he'll run…"  He trailed off, glancing around the office and looking for Tanner.  "…point."

All that was left was the silver dollar, buzzing slightly on Tanner's desktop as it finally lost its energy and fell over to stop spinning.

          "Goddamn it!" Larabee snarled.  "He's gonna get himself killed."

          Buck stepped up beside his friend and, reaching out, rested his hand on the man's shoulder.  "He knows what he's doing, Chris."

          "Let's go," Larabee replied, praying Buck was right.  He couldn't lose Vin.  Wouldn't.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Stein's warehouse**

 

          Vin pulled up outside the building on his motorcycle, his gaze sweeping over the nearby rooftops, wondering if she would drop him before he even entered the warehouse.  But some part of his mind knew that wouldn't happen.  She wanted revenge, and she wanted it up close and personal.  She would let him into the building, where she would be waiting to stalk him, and then, if she caught him, she'd kill him.

          Just like his recent dream, he realized, and a cold chill snaked its way down his back.  It didn't help that he knew Chris was going to be pissed that he'd come on his own, but he knew it had to be like this.  She wouldn't hesitate to kill the others on her way to him, and there was no way he was risking their lives, especially Chris'.

          He removed his helmet and set it on the bike, then climbed off.  He'd broken almost every traffic law on the books on his way here, but he knew the others would still be close behind.

          He pulled his SIG 229 from its holster and checked the rooftops once more, out of habit, then moved forward and checked the door.  It was unlocked, which didn't surprise him.  He pulled it open, accepting the assassin's invitation to come in and play.

          Easing into the darkness, he could have sworn he heard the distant howl of a wolf, but that was impossible.  It was just the dream, come back to haunt him.  He forced the images and thoughts away.

          His swept the interior with his gaze, his SIG following as if it was an extension of his eyes.  He moved farther into the building, silently, carefully, constantly checking left and right, up and down.  As he reached the end of a row of expensive cars, he found one with the passenger side door open.  A man was seated behind the wheel.

Vin eased around the front of the car, readied his weapon, and opened the driver's side door.  The man fell over and spilled out of the vehicle, apparently dead.

Tanner squatted down, the open door giving him some cover, and checked for a pulse, just to be sure.

          _Definitely dead_.

          Rising, he continued on, finding another one of Stein's guards lying dead on the floor a little farther away.  He moved past the body, the hole in the man's head making it unnecessary for him to check for a pulse.

          Vin felt his heart beginning to beat faster, but he concentrated on controlling his breathing, forcing his body into a state of calmness despite what his instincts were trying to tell him.

Moving forward silently, he kept up the same careful movements, always checking for the shadow that was out of place, the flash of movement in his peripheral vision, the telltale sound of a breath, or a footstep.

          He felt something brush along the back of his neck.

He dropped and spun, ready to fire, but he didn't, his mind registering the truth and stopping him before the reality of what he was looking at reached the thinking part of his brain:  another one of Raptor's victims, this one hanging upside down from a hook that held him suspended from the ceiling.  The body count was adding up.

Raptor, he knew, was cleaning house.

And he was getting closer.  He could feel it.

          He found some stairs and silently made his way up, like a ghost haunting the building, or a wolf, hunting in the forest.

          At the top, there was a door.  He eased through it, only to find another open door across the hall.  Another invitation, he knew.

Moving forward, he slipped into Stein's office.  The man himself was seated at his desk.

          Vin crept up behind him, then slid to the side, reaching out to grab the man's neck at the same time.  But he need not have bothered.  Stein was dead as well, the Magellan chip pressed into the flesh of his forehead.  The sniper pulled it free and slipped it into his pocket, wondering what kind of damage blood could do to a computer chip.  JD would know, but he didn't.

          The computer monitor was turned off.  A small radio with an earpiece and a throat mic was sitting in front of the keyboard.  A Post-it note was stuck to the black monitor screen, two words written on it:  _Use it_.

          Vin picked up the unit, continuing to scan the room for danger, and made his way over to a corner that offered him some cover, then holstered the SIG and quickly clipped the radio unit to his belt.  He slipped the throat mic choker around his neck and snapped it into place, then positioned the receiver in his ear and pressed along the choker to activate the mic.

          He reached down, drawing his SIG once more and starting forward, Raptor saying softly in his ear, "Let's finish this."  Her voice was hard, cold.

          Vin didn't reply, just continued on to the door and, after checking, stepped out into the hallway.  She could be anywhere in the building and she was hunting him, just like he was hunting her.

          It _was_ just like his dream…

          He made his way back down the stairs and into the open space of the warehouse floor.

          "Vincent Michael Tanner…  You're a very special kind of man, aren't you?" she asked him.

He reached up, pressing the earpiece into his ear a little deeper – so she couldn't hear herself talking if he got too close to her – his eyes and weapon moving constantly.

"No matter what you see in their eyes," she continued, "pain… sorrow… you pull the trigger."

He remained silent, moving, looking, waiting.  He listened, too, hearing the faint echo of her voice in both ears, using that to guide him slowly toward her.

          "Do you get the rush?" she asked him, and then answered herself before he could – not that he had intended to.  "No, of course not…  You're a professional; emotions don't enter into it."

          He turned left and then right as she spoke, moving in the direction from which the echo seemed to be louder.  Staying in the shadows, he continued, breathing deeply, rhythmically, his heartbeat slowing as a result.  His senses were focused, working better than usual.

          "You don't have fun with it, do you?"  She sounded like he must be a fool not to.

His steps were silent, deliberate.  He tilted his head, turned it left, then right, and then left again.  He changed course, his SIG moving up and down, an extension of his eyes now, ready to bring death.

"Must be hard to get up in the morning, huh?" she asked.

Not as hard as she seemed to think, he knew.  He'd often wondered how it was that he could kill so easily, when he had to, when he'd been ordered to, but he'd been afraid to dig too deeply.

"It helps to have a reason to get up…  I had a reason," she told him.  "I spent years, looking… backtracking… going through the kill books of men like you… until I found the one."

He realized he liked the sound of her voice, the cadence of it, even the accent.  She could have made a good living reading books onto tape – a very good living; he had no doubt.

          "Then I had to find just the right job… plant just the right intel…  It's always better when the target comes to you…"

          He, on the other hand, preferred going after his target.  He preferred the hunt.  It was primal, something that lived in the memory of his cells – something that rose up inside of him and took over his thoughts, his feelings slipping away like clothing being shed.  They were the trappings of a modern world, a civilized world.  But the hunt wasn't civilized.  It was primeval.  It was survival.

          "I saw it all happen…  My father was totally defenseless.  I know your rationale… you were saving lives."

          That was what he had told himself, after the fact.  At the time, though, it was only the hunt – predator against predator, the first one to kill the one who survives.

          "Life is overrated," she told him, "a never-ending chain of miseries…"

          He had believed that once, but not any longer.  He had friends now, family.  He had the love he'd wanted his entire adult life.  And he was getting closer to his target…

          "The men I killed here tonight…  I did them a favor…  And I had fun doing it."

          Definitely closer…  He could feel the hum begin in his blood, like a mist of electricity that wrapped itself around him, lifting the hairs on his arms, the back of his neck.  It was as if lightning was about to strike.

          "How about a change of scenery?"

          He was close – too close.  She was moving at last.

He heard the soft squeak of metal hinges, the sharp stab of her heels as she descended stairs.  She had been in Stein's office.

          And he was moving, too, thoughts evaporating as the hunt took over.  He was the predator now, she the prey.  He tracked her, moving through the warehouse swiftly, surely, maneuvering around cars and crates of auto body parts and engines.

Catching the shimmer of a shadow moving, he dropped into a crouch, the SIG coming up, ready to fire, but she was already behind cover, waiting for him to move from his own cover so she had a shot.

          It was as if he could hear the air stir as she leaned over far enough to check.  But he held his position, nostrils flared.  Then, he moved, checking to the left and to the right.  He no longer bothered with up and down.  They were on the same level; he knew that with absolute certainty.  He would hear it if she tried to climb, or took cover beneath a car.

          "You think we're different, Vincent…  You are doing the right thing, no matter the consequences…"

He moved, knowing somehow that she had stopped again and was waiting for him to come to her.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he could see the images from his dream – the body… turning it over… finding himself, a bullet hole in his forehead…

"But there are consequences…" she told him.

 _"Kill confirmed,"_ he heard his own dream-voice say again.

"It's time you take responsibility for your actions," she stated, voice gone cold and hard again.

He moved faster now, but it seemed to his eyes as if everything was slowing down.  He was used to the effect.  He breathed into it, entering the ancient flow that would lead ultimately to death – his or hers, he wasn't sure.

"You are just like me…"  She snorted softly – an attempt at laughter.  "You're a _killer_."

He could smell her now, a faint copper tinge mixed with sweat and some kind of sweet perfume.

He felt himself begin to loosen up, his muscles moving more fluidly, more easily, more swiftly, even if his eyes were watching everything drift past at a snail's pace.

"But the killing is easy…" she said.  "Living with it is hard."

Close, so close.  He heard himself say, "I'm nothin' like you."

She chuffed.  "Ah, the man of few words finally speaks."

 _It's always better when the target comes to you…_   "Y' got a problem, lady," he told her, reaching up to turn off the throat mic.

          "What's that?" she asked him.

          "Y' talk too much," he said, stepping out into the open.  He watched as she spun toward him.  It was so slow, her blonde hair flying out like a dancer's as his finger gently caressed, then squeezed, the trigger.  And then she was spinning back in the other direction, her gun discharging even as she was falling…

          He was punched backward, but he watched her hit the ground, then bounce slightly with a soft grunt of surprise.

          The wall stopped his momentum and he slammed against it, grunting himself.  It felt as if he was suspended there, caught between seconds, but then he slid down so he was sitting on the floor.  He was numb, feeling absent, physically and emotionally.

          He wasn't sure how long he sat there, but it couldn't have been long.

          He didn't remember getting up, or walking over to her.  _Confirm the kill_ , he heard echo through his mind.

          Stepping closer, his eyes met hers, but it was already too late, the life had left them.  The perfectly round hole in her forehead leaked a drop of blood.

          "Kill confirmed," he whispered into the empty warehouse.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Outside Stein's warehouse**

 

          Vin was sitting on his motorcycle, waiting, when Larabee and the others arrived.  Chris was the first one out of the vehicles, stalking toward him, eyes flashing even as his expression was one of worry.  He stopped when he reached Tanner, who was playing with something in his hand.  "You didn't say good-bye," he chastised the sniper quietly.

          Vin flashed him a small smile, glad that he didn't sound too pissed off.  But he'd needed to do this alone.  He wiggled the item in his fingers at Larabee.

          "The Magellan chip?" Chris questioned.

          Vin nodded again and handed it to the blond, saying, "Enjoy life…"

          Chris grinned.  "Eat out more often," he finished in an echo of their earlier exchange.

          Buck and Josiah exchanged confused looks, but it didn't matter if they didn't understand.  It was over, and Vin had survived, unharmed it seemed.

          "Raptor?" JD asked him.

          He jerked his head in the direction of the warehouse.  "Inside."

          "Dead?" Buck asked him.

          Tanner nodded, feeling a little light-headed.  "Oh, yeah."

          "You?" Chris asked.

          "Took one to the vest," Vin said with a one-shoulder shrug.  He was going to add that he was fine, but he knew that wasn't true.

          "Vin?" Chris questioned, stepping up to the younger man.  "What's wrong?"

          "Ain't sure," Vin replied.  It was getting harder to breath and things were starting to spin.  "Shit," he gasped, reaching for his chest.

          "Where were you hit?" Josiah asked, standing at Vin's back.

          "Chest," Tanner managed, squeezing his eyes shut.

          Chris met Josiah's eyes.  "Let's get him down, see—"

          In the distance, the wail of a siren reached them.  Larabee had called for one, just in case.  And it looked like his inclination had been right.

          The two men maneuvered Vin off the motorcycle and got him on the ground.  A quick check turned up no blood, but it was clearly getting harder for the sniper to breathe.  Moments later, there was a cacophony of lights and sounds as the ambulance arrived and the medics descended.  Chris stayed with Vin, watching as the two paramedics worked over him with swift, efficient movements.

          Buck was standing beside him as they loaded Vin into the back of the ambulance.

"Looks like she killed Stein and the others b'fore Vin got here," he said.

          "No great loss there," Larabee responded.

          "I'll drive you," the ladies' man offered when one of the medics said they were taking Vin to Summit.

          Chris nodded and felt his body moving to follow Buck, but it was like he was watching himself from someplace else.  He was numb, and it felt like he was holding his breath, even though he knew he wasn't.  His knees were weak, but he managed to stay on his feet all the way to the Ram.  He fished out his keys and tossed them to Buck, then climbed into the cab.  A shiver snaked down his back, and he reached over and turned on the heater as soon as Buck turned the engine over.

          "He'll be fine," the ladies' man said.

          "What the hell's wrong with him?" Chris asked.  He'd been too afraid to ask the paramedics, and they had been too busy with Vin to bother telling him anything.

          "I don't know, stud," the man replied.  "But I know that boy is a fighter," he said, then added, "And I know he's got something worth fighting for."

          Chris shot the man a look, then glanced away, his cheeks going hot.

          "Chris," Buck said, "you know we aren't blind.  And after that mess with Dower…  It was pretty obvious how Vin felt about you, and ever since you went home from the hospital…  Well, it's just… fine.  You gotta know we're all happy for you, and Vin."

          "I can't lose him, Buck," Larabee said quietly.

          Buck reached over and gave the blond's shoulder a squeeze.  "He's going to be okay."

          Chris nodded, but he just couldn't be sure.  He forced out a breath, trying to get some control over the fear that was rampaging through his thoughts and his guts.  He felt sick and trapped, and he had to wonder if this was what Vin had felt when they'd discovered he'd been poisoned…  If it was, then he completely understood everything Tanner had said and done.  He just hoped he got the opportunity to tell him so.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Summit Hospital and Trauma Center**

 

An hour later, the four remaining men of Team Seven sat in the ER waiting room at Summit.  JD was keeping an eye on the nurses' station, not that far away, while Josiah and Buck focused their attention on Larabee.

Chris was sitting in a chair a little away from the rest of them, a cup of rapidly cooling coffee in his hands.  If it wouldn't be completely out of character for the blond, Buck would have sworn that Chris was sitting there, praying.  And maybe he was.

"Buck," JD said, standing, a smile on his face.  And a moment later, Nathan walked in to join them.

"What are you doing here, Nate?" Buck asked the man, standing and giving Jackson a slap on the back.

Nathan nodded at Josiah, who nodded back.  "I heard what happened to Vin.  Any word?"

"Not yet," Buck said, shaking his head.  "You see Ezra?"

Nathan nodded.  "Just came down from his room.  Nurse came in to tell him about Vin.  I talked to Ezra's doctor, too.  They're sending him home tomorrow, or the next day.  Looks like the infection they thought might be developing isn't going to develop."

The men settled back down to wait.  Nathan leaned closer to Buck, nodded at Larabee, and asked quietly, "He know we know?"

"Told 'im on the drive here," the ladies' man said.  "I don't think it's really sunk in, though."

Nathan nodded.  "Given the circumstances, that's not too surprising.  How's he doing?"

"Better than I expected," Buck admitted.

"How's the baby?" Josiah asked.

Nathan grinned.  "Fine.  She's sleeping more than I expected; isn't really crying much at night."

"So you're not sleep-deprived?" Buck teased.

"Nope, not yet."

Chris shot to his feet, putting an end to the conversation.  Dr. Daniel Chandler walked into the room with Dr. Vivika Sahir, another of the ER staff.

"How is he?" Larabee demanded.

"Let's sit down," Daniel said, offering the men a reassuring, small smile.

Chris didn't look like he planned to comply, but then he relented and sat back down.  "Is he okay?" he asked again.

Vivi leaned toward Larabee and said, "Vin's suffered some pretty severe blunt force trauma to his chest."

Seeing the blood drain from Chris' face, Daniel jumped in, adding, "But overall the news is good.  There's some pretty extensive bruising, and he has rib fractures—"

"Flail chest?" Nathan asked.

Daniel nodded.  "But the breaks didn't cause that much damage.  There's a pulmonary contusion that's spreading, but we have him on ventilation to give the lung a chance to recover.  There was also a simple pneumothorax," he added.  "It occurs when a tear in the lung allows air to enter the pleural space.  There's also—"

"More?" JD asked, starting to look worried.  He shot a quick look at Chris, who was also looking worried again.

Daniel smiled indulgently.  "Any time someone takes a big punch like that to the chest, there are consequences.  And the one I haven't mentioned yet is a myocardial contusion – a bruise of the heart."

"Okay, now, _that_ sounds bad," Buck said worriedly.

"Not necessarily," Daniel said.  "We're keeping a close eye on him, to make sure it doesn't develop into something bad, and so far, so good – on all fronts."

"Okay, then… it sounds pretty good so far," Buck said, trying to sound upbeat.

The two doctors nodded.

Vivi picked up, adding, "Taken individually, Vin's injuries aren't life-threatening, but there are potential complications for each of them, so we're going to be keeping him for a while.  Right now, we're getting a CT scan done, so we can make sure we haven't missed anything that could be more serious.  One of us will come see you as soon as we have the results of the scan back."

"When can we see him?" Chris finally asked.

"After the scan, we'll put him in with Ezra," Daniel said.  "I figure that might help keep you people from wearing out the carpet between two rooms."

"Appreciate that, Doctor," Josiah said with a small smile.  "I'm sure they will, too."

"Don't worry too much," Vivi said.  "Vin is healthy and strong, and it really does look like he managed to walk away with relatively minor injuries, given the force of the blow he took."  She reached out and patted Chris' arm, adding, "He told me to tell you that you aren't getting rid of him this easily."

Chris snorted, feeling his eyes suddenly fill with tears.  "He did, huh?"

She nodded.  "He was awake, and complaining, right up until we put him on the ventilator."

"Sounds about right," Buck said, grinning.

Daniel glanced over at Larabee and suggested, "I think it would be fine if you wanted to go keep Vin company while the scan is done.  I'll take you up, if you want to go."

Larabee was immediately on his feet.  "What are we waiting for?" he asked.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Chris followed Daniel to an elevator.  Inside, and alone, Larabee took the opportunity to ask, "There isn't anything you're not telling us, is there?"

          Daniel shook his head.  "No, there isn't.  I really think he's going to be fine.  There's going to be some pain with those broken ribs, and it's going to be a while before he's back to work– eight to twelve weeks, more than likely – but unless the scan turns up something, I think we're going to get off easy on this one."

          Chris looked surprised.  "Then why this trip?" he asked.

          Daniel blushed slightly as he said, "Vin told me about the two of you, but I wasn't sure if the others knew."

"They do," Chris replied, feeling his cheeks redden.  How they knew, he still wasn't exactly clear on, but he wasn't ready to ask Buck about it just yet, either.

"He was worried about you worrying.  And, to be honest, he's not comfortable on the vent.  I figure if you're with him, then you won't worry as much about him, and he won't worry as much about you, worrying about him."

Chris snorted softly.  "Yeah, I guess you're right about that."

"He needs you."

          The doctor's candor took Larabee by surprise, but he remembered why he'd always like Chandler.  "I appreciate it."

          "How are you doing these days?" Daniel asked.

          "Back to normal, at least according to Dr. Levine," Chris said.

          Daniel nodded.  "I'm starting to think the two of you must have nine lives apiece."

          The blond chuckled softly.  "Sometimes, Doc, so do I."

          "Well, I really do think he's going to be fine."

          "I appreciate it," Larabee replied.

          The elevator opened and they exited, Dr. Chandler leading the way down the hallway.  A few moments later, he pointed at a door, saying, "You can go on in."

          Larabee nodded and stepped forward, grabbing the knob and pushing the door open.  Inside the room, he found Vin lying in a narrow bed, attached to more machines than he had expected.  The visual impact felt like a punch in the gut, but he sucked in a deep breath and walked over to the younger man.  He reached out, resting his hand lightly on top of Vin's head.

          "Hey," he said with a small smile.  "Dr. Chandler says you're going to be just fine."

          Vin closed his eyes, then opened them again.  Yes, he knew what Chandler's opinion was.

          "And I'm fine, so you can stop worrying about me," Larabee scolded quietly.  "Knowing you're going to be okay means I'm okay – understand?"

          Vin's eyes closed again, then opened.  Then Tanner's forehead wrinkled and his eyebrows pinched together.

          "I'm afraid I didn't think to ask him how long you're going to be on the vent, but I will while you're getting the scan done, okay?"

          A blink.  Yes, that would be soon enough, but Chris could see in the man's eyes that he'd better have some kind of answer for him after the CT scan.

          Chris offered another small smile and said, "They're going to put you in with Ezra when they're done here."

          Vin rolled his eyes.

          "Yeah, well, they're just trying to make sure we don't wear out the carpet if we have to tramp back and forth between two rooms."

          That prompted another eye roll.

          "Hey, that's what Dan and Vivi said; you ask Josiah, or any of the others."

          Chris could see the corner of Vin's eyes pinch with amusement, and he combed his fingers through the man's hair – something he knew Vin liked.

          And the blue eyes immediately dropped closed.

"I know you hate this thing," Chris said gently, "but it won't be for long, and I'll be right here."

Chris kept combing his fingers through Vin's hair, quietly reassuring him, until he saw Tanner slowly relax.  "That's it," he encouraged.  "You just relax and rest, let the doctors do whatever they have to, and you'll be home before you know it."

          Vin blinked his eyes open, looking half-worried, half-annoyed.

          "Hey, those ribs are going to take a couple of months to heal up, maybe three."

          The blue eyes rounded.

          "You remember that I'm just the messenger," Chris replied, holding up his hands in a placating gesture.

          The eyes watching him narrowed.

          "Seriously.  Dan said eight to twelve weeks for those ribs to heal."

          Vin's eyes dropped closed.

          Chris went back to stroking his hair as he bent over the bed and whispered into the younger man's ear, "You just think about the celebration we'll have, once Dan clears you."

          Vin managed a soft snort through his nose.

          "It's going to fine," Chris whispered.  "I'm going to be right here, okay?"

          Vin managed a watery blink, and Chris guessed he understood what was behind the unusual show of emotion.  Larabee seriously doubted Vin had ever had someone really there for him, someone who loved him, at least since he'd been a kid.  And he could remember what that felt like when he'd realized it.

          He leaned closer and pressed a kiss to Tanner's temple.  "I love you," he added in a whisper.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**The following day, late evening**

**Summit Hospital and Trauma Center**

 

          As soon as Ezra stepped out of the bathroom in his and Vin's room, Nathan was there.  He assisted the undercover man back to his bed and helped him ease himself down.

As Ezra lay back against his pillows, the former medic lifted Standish's injured leg and swung it over to the stack of pillows, placing it in the center of the pile for him.

          "How're you feelin'?" he asked the injured agent.

          "Not nearly as bad as I appear, I'm afraid," was the mournful reply.

          The other men scattered around the room all grinned.  Leave it to the undercover agent to be worried about his rakish good looks having been damaged by Raptor's attack.

          "Hell, Ez, even if you're only feelin' half as bad as you look, I should shoot you 'n' put you outta your misery," Buck offered helpfully from his chair.

          "A thought that has crossed my mind, Mr. Wilmington," was the immediate, droll reply.  "But then I thought… what a tragic waste."

          The grins widened and the men chuckled.  Vin's eyes crinkled and he gave Buck a thumbs-up.

          "You want me to get a nurse?" Nathan asked Standish seriously, seeing the man's very real wince of pain.

          Ezra's eyes opened.  "No, thank you, Mr. Jackson."  He looked around at the others who had somehow become his friends, his family, his gaze stopping when it reached Vin.  "So, _you_ were the Raptor's intended target?"

          Tanner blinked once.

"She didn't take too kindly to the fact that Vin killed her daddy," Josiah explained, and Ezra saw the look of sadness that passed through the sniper's eyes.

          "No, Mr. Tanner," Ezra said with a small shake of his head, "you did not kill her father.  You simply did your job, and stopped an assassin from killing God knows how many innocent people."

          Vin's gaze immediately dropped and his cheeks colored slightly, but it was enough for the others to see the reaction.

          "Innocent politicians?" Buck questioned dryly, eliciting another round of chuckles and sparing Vin any additional embarrassment.

          "Well, innocent can certainly be a _relative_ term," Ezra clarified.

          Vin tilted his head to the side slightly.  Yes, it had been his job, and he had saved lives, but he wasn't sure that he hadn't enjoyed it, too – had enjoyed the hunt, at least…  But, at the time, it had just been another job, what had to be done, and he knew he'd do it again tomorrow if the same situation arose.

          "When are they lettin' _you_ out 'a here?" Buck asked Ezra.

          The undercover agent sighed loudly.  "They have yet to make that clear to me," he stated grumpily.

          "Well, maybe Nathan and I can find out for you," Josiah offered.

          "Any assistance you could provide, ascertaining the occurrence of my future emancipation from this place, would be greatly appreciated."

          Nathan and Josiah both stopped to stare at the man.  "He actually managed that while on drugs," Sanchez said, a touch of awe in his voice.

          Nathan nodded, equally impressed.  "Damned amazing."

          Vin just looked confused, and he was on drugs, too, so it was no wonder that he hadn't followed the undercover man.

          Seeing the sniper's lack of understanding, Buck grinned, saying, "Think he was just thankin' Nate and Josiah for finding out when he's gonna get sprung."

          "Indeed, Mr. Wilmington, indeed."

          The two men left, still grinning.  Buck pushed up out of his chair and walked over to JD, snaking his arm around the younger man's neck and saying, "C'mon, kid, let's go get some coffee."  He looked around at the others.  "We'll be back in a few.  Ezra, you want anything?"

          "No, thank you," Standish replied, watching them go.  When the door closed behind them, he glanced over at Vin, then at Chris, who was leaning against the wall near Tanner's bed.  Not seeing what he wanted to know, he shifted his gaze back to Vin and asked directly, "Are _you_ all right?"

          Tanner blinked.  Yes.

"He'll be fine," Chris added quietly, his gaze on Tanner, affection and concern equally clear.  Then he looked up and met Standish's gaze.  "Chandler said the scan was clear.  He'll be fine.  Back to normal in two or three months.  You just worry about getting better yourself."

          Ezra nodded.  "I will no doubt recuperate as soon as I can escape this place.  Not that, as a hospital, it isn't the best I've encountered, but I loathe being—"  He stopped, knowing that Vin hated it even worse than he did.  He looked at the two men, some part of himself envying the relationship he knew they shared, the closeness that had bloomed between them.  But he also noticed something else.  "Mr. Larabee, you look like you should go home and get some rest yourself."

          "That's what I'm supposed to be telling the two of you," Chris reminded him.

          The undercover man smiled.  "Yes, well, I'm feeling a little tired.  I think I'll take a brief nap…"  He paused long enough to yawn – loudly.  "…I beg your pardon.  If you wouldn't mind…?"

          "Sure," Chris said, pushing away from the wall.  He knew what the undercover man was really asking:  Will you watch my back?  "Get some rest.  I'll keep Vin company, make sure the others keep it down."

          "I do appreciate it…" Ezra said with a small, grateful smile.  The sense of being out of control he experienced in the hospital made it difficult for him to really relax and rest.  But if he knew one of the others would be there…  "Most kind of you…"  His voice trailed off as his eyes closed.

          Chris waited for a several seconds, making sure Ezra wouldn't come up with something else to say.  But when it was clear the man was sleeping, he looked down, meeting Vin's eyes.  Then he leaned over and lightly kissed the man's forehead.  "Why don't you get some sleep, too?  I'm going to step out into the hallway, grab a cup of that complimentary coffee.  I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

          Vin nodded, then reached up for the blond's hand.

          Chris took his hand and gave it a squeeze.  "I'll right outside the door.  I promise."

          Vin squeezed his hand, his eyes closing.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Chris stepped out into the hallway, waiting until Buck and JD came back a few minutes later, letting them know that Ezra and Vin were sleeping.  And, shortly after, Josiah and Nathan returned as well.

          "They're planning to let Ezra go home tomorrow, around ten or so," Nathan said.

          "I'll pick him up and take him home," Josiah said.  "I already have a bag packed so I can stay with him for a couple of days."

          "Sounds good," Chris said, looking around at the men.  He smiled.  "Look, why don't you guys head on home, get some rest and relax?  We'll get back to it, day after tomorrow."

          There were nods and smiles from the others and the men headed out, except for Nathan, who hung back.

"Something wrong?" Chris asked.

Nathan shook his head.  "Nope, just wanted to let you know that I saw Dan Chandler.  He said they were going to take Vin off the vent tomorrow morning."

Chris smiled.  "Now, that's good news."

"Thought you'd want to know," Nathan added.

Chris nodded.  "How are Raine and Tanner doing?"

Nathan grinned, saying, "They're fine.  She's a good baby.  She's sleeping almost all night, smiles all the time."

That brought a small smile to Larabee's lips.  "They're a blessing, Nate.  Don't ever take them for granted."

Nathan reached out and gave Chris' shoulder a light squeeze.  "Never."

Chris nodded, and Nathan headed out as well.  The blond waited until the man was around the corner, then he turned and slipped back into the room.  Ezra and Vin were both still sleeping.

He walked to the chair that was sitting next to Vin's bed and sat down.  He stared at Vin for several minutes, marveling at the fact that he was in love with the man.  It wasn't something he'd ever expected to feel again.  But this had made it perfectly clear to him that he did indeed love Tanner.

He smiled and reached out, wrapping his fingers around Vin's lax fingers.

He nodded to himself.  When Vin was healed up, he was going to see to it that they had one helluva celebration…  Make it official with the rest of the guys, who evidently knew already anyway…

He shook his head.  He could remember – more or less – how scared Vin had looked while he'd been poisoned and waiting to die.  He could also remember how angry the man had been when he'd thought Larabee wasn't fighting hard enough to stay alive.  And now he appreciated why.  If things were reversed…

He stopped the thought, a cold wave of fear rolling over him.  If he fell in love again, then he could lose—

He took a deep breath and tried to force the sudden panic that rolled though his chest.  He couldn't face losing someone else he loved, but he couldn't not love Vin, either.

He glanced over, watching Tanner sleep, then blinked as he saw Sarah standing on the other side of the bed.  His eyes widened and he wanted to speak, but his voice caught in his throat.

Sarah smiled.  _Yes, it was all real.  And he's going to be fine, you know that, right?_

Chris nodded.

 _I'm so glad that you and Vin…_   She seemed to blush slightly.  _I just wanted to let you know that I’m so happy for you.  You're good for each other.  Don't let anything change that._

"I won't," he said quietly, roughly.

And she was gone.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Three days later, a still-weak Vin Tanner was released from the hospital, on the promise that he spend the next week at home, resting.  Chris assured Dr. Chandler that Vin would do just that.

It wasn't at all what Vin wanted to do.  He was already bored and ready to go back to work, but that would be another two weeks, and then he'd still be limited to desk duty for another two to four weeks, while his ribs mended.

          Vin had been bored and lonely ever since Ezra was released.  He knew the undercover man was doing well; Josiah had come by once a day, every day Vin was in the hospital, and he had brought updates on Ezra's improvements.  Those visits had been much appreciated.

Nathan had been by once, and Vin had told the man – in no uncertain terms – that if he saw him again, he'd get up out of his bed and kiss the man's sorry ass.  Nathan had evidently taken the threat to heart, since he hadn't come back, which was just fine as far as Tanner was concerned.  Nathan was supposed to be at home, helping Raine and enjoying his new daughter.  He didn't need to be hanging around the hospital.

          Buck and JD had come by once, too, but they had left Vin with a headache, which Chris had found out about.  He suspected _that_ was why he hadn't seen the pair again.

          He grinned.  They meant well, but…

          Vin's thoughts scattered when Chris reached out and gave his thigh a gentle squeeze.  "Hey, you okay?" Larabee asked.

          Vin nodded, saying, "Yeah, just… lost in thought, I reckon."

          Chris studied him for a moment, but apparently decided that whatever had been on Vin's mind wasn't anything he needed to worry about.  "I just asked if you wanted to stop and grab something on the way, or we can call for Chinese."

          "Chinese," Vin replied.  He was already aching again.

          "You got it," Larabee replied, his hand returning to the wheel.  "Ribs hurting?"

          "Yeah," Vin replied.

          "When we get home, you take some of that pain medicine."

          Tanner nodded, too tired and too sore to argue.  A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth, though, because, damn, it was good to have family.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          When they arrived at the ranch, Vin let Chris carry all of his stuff in, the sniper heading straight for the living room and the soft, comfortable recliner he knew was waiting for him.  Easing himself down, he watched as Chris puttered around, setting things back to rights, calling for the takeout and then, finally, settling on the sofa.  Less than twenty minutes later, the food arrived and they ate in companionable silence, the television keeping them entertained.

A couple of hours later, Vin yawned, and Chris pushed off the sofa.  He walked to the recliner and reached down, ruffling Tanner's hair.

"Hey," Vin protested.  "What d' ya think yer doin'?"

Chris grinned.  "Nothin'.  I'll go get your meds, then we ought to go to bed."

Vin looked up at the older man, seeing the affection in his green eyes.  A moment later, Vin was looking away, his eyes full of unexpected tears.

"Hey," Chris said, reaching out to cradle the back of Tanner's head in the palm of his hand.  "What's wrong?"

Vin shook his head.

Chris frowned and knelt down next to the recliner.  "Vin, tell me what's wrong."

Vin drew in a deep breath and brushed his eyes with his fingers.  Another deep breath followed, then he reached out, resting his hand on Chris' shoulder.  "It…"  He chuffed out a laugh, shook his head, then said, "It's been a long time since I had someone who loved me, who cared 'bout how I was…"

"I hear you," Larabee said quietly.  "Guess it was, what, when you were a kid – your mom, granddad?"

Vin nodded.  "Hell, I've had friends, damn good friends, but… it's different, y' know?"

Chris nodded again.  "You didn't think—?"

"Just never thought I'd have somebody t' love… never thought you'd love me, not like this."

"But I do."

"I know," Vin said thickly.  "An' ya know—"

"That you love me?"

Vin nodded again.

"Yeah, I know that, too."

Silence fell and the two men shifted a little uncomfortably.  Then Chris snorted and Vin chuckled.

"Damn, y' reckon that fried rice was cut with estrogen?" Tanner asked.

Chris laughed.  "Must have been, huh?"

Then Vin looked at Chris and grinned.  "Think I better get t' bed, I must be gettin' feverish."

"Amen," Chris said.  He stood and helped Vin to his feet.  And, after medications had been taken, and nightly rituals finished, the two men climbed into bed.

Vin pressed carefully against his lover.  "Night, Cowboy," he said sleepily.

"How many times do have I have say it, Tanner…"

"Shh, I'm tryin' t' sleep here," Tanner slurred.

"Pain in the ass…"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Four weeks later**

 

          Peso picked his way along the rocky trail and Vin sat on his back, letting himself finally relax.  He and Chris had stopped by his apartment after work to pick up some more of his stuff, then headed for the ranch, stopping at Mom and Pop's, a small diner not far from the turnoff to the property, for lunch.  After Tanner had stowed his stuff, the two men had headed out to the barn to ready their horses.

          Pony was trailing along behind Peso now, happy to let the big horse find the best path.  Chris and Vin hadn't talked, each just enjoying the beautiful day.

          When they reached the small meadow Tanner had discovered on a ride a few months back, they climbed down from their saddles and looked around at the breathtaking scenery.

          "Beautiful, ain't it?" Tanner asked softly.

          "It sure is," Chris replied, wondering how he'd missed the spot all these years.  He glanced over at the younger man and asked, "You all right?  Sore?"

          Vin turned to meet his eyes, but he didn't answer immediately.  He considered the question for a long moment, then nodded and said, "Yeah, a little, but it ain't bad.  I'll be fine."

          Chris could see the lingering turmoil hiding behind the man's pale blue eyes.  It had been there since the night he'd killed Raptor.  "Sucks when the past comes back to haunt you…" he said quietly.  And he knew.  He had plenty of his own demons.

          Vin took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then let it out.  "She said we were the same," he said, voice soft, his eyes taking on a faraway look.

          "You think so?" Chris asked after several moments passed and Tanner still hadn't continued.

          Vin blinked and refocused on Larabee.  "Maybe… a little."

          "What makes you say that?"

          "Reckon we both enjoy the hunt," he said, then added, "just feel a little different 'bout the kill."

          Chris nodded.  "She was a hired killer, an assassin."

          "'N' I'm a sniper… a paid killer, sometimes a paid assassin."

          "You're just doing your job, your duty," Chris argued.

          Tanner nodded.  "An' she was just doin' what her daddy taught her.  I know there's a difference, Chris, don't get me wrong, but sometimes that line c'n get a mite blurred… 'n' that can be damn uncomfortable."

          "That's why you need friends, family," Larabee told him.  "So they can help you make that line a little clearer."

          Vin nodded.  "Reckon that's true, too," he admitted, his cheeks turning a little pink.  "Been a long, long time since I felt like I belonged somewhere… really belonged…  Sometimes it still kind 'a feels like I'm livin' in a dream…"

          "Yeah, I know," Chris replied, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth.  "The team… you…  It's been a long time for me, too."

          "Think maybe things changed 'tween Josiah and Ezra while Josiah was stayin' with Ez," Vin said, abruptly changing the subject.

          Chris grinned.  "Josiah and Ezra?"  He thought for a moment, then shook his head.  "No way."

          "Yes, way," Vin countered.  "Y' want t' put a twenty on it?"

          "You're on," Larabee replied.  "And I did notice that change of subject.  You really okay with what went down?"

          Chuckling softly, Tanner climbed back into his saddle.  "No, I ain't all right with it, but I made m' peace."

          "Well, if you need to hash this out, I'm here."

          Vin nodded, then smiled.  "Means a lot t' me, t' know y' can hear me out…"

          "This is a partnership, Vin.  Sarah taught me that, and I…  Well, I know how much it means to me, too."

          "Just never thought I'd get this."

          Larabee nodded, looking up at the man who had become so much to him in so short a time.  "We need to talk to the others… make this official.  I can't hide.  I'm just not built like that."

          Vin thought for a moment, then nodded.  "Fine by me.  Don't reckon I'd be any good at hidin' either.

          "And Vin…"

          Tanner looked over as Larabee mounted.  "Yeah?"

          "That dream comes back," the blond said, "I want to hear about it."

          That put a smile on Vin's lips.  "You'll be the second one t' know, soon as I wake up."

          Chris smiled.  "Glad to hear it."  Then he reined Pony in close and leaned over to kiss his lover.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Two weeks later**

 

          Team Seven was scattered across Larabee's deck, waiting for the steaks to finish cooking on the grill.  A cooler full of ice was stocked with a variety of beers, covering each of the men's preferences.  There was also a variety of sodas.

          Vin was lying on one of the lounge chairs, milking his recovery for as long as he could.  Monday he was returning to work, cleared for field duty once more.

          When Chris called, "Chow's on!" the men all headed to the long picnic table, quickly filling their plates with salad, steaks, and slices of garlic toast.  They dug in, trading teases and conversation until Chris set his fork down and loudly cleared his throat.

          The others fell silent, their attention turning to the blond.  Chris blushed slightly, but forged ahead, saying, "Uh, I take it that some of you are already aware that Vin and I—"

          "Fell in love, finally got your shit together, and are currently living happily ever after?" Buck finished for him, his expression innocent, his eyes dancing with merry mischief.  He nodded.  "Yep, we know."

          Chris blinked, and Vin choked on his beer, nearly spraying Nathan, who sat across the table from him.

          "Uh," Larabee replied, his cheeks going red as he glanced around the table and was met by grinning faces.  "And you're all okay with this?"

          "We are most decidedly 'okay,'" Ezra stated for the group.

          Chris looked down at his plate for a moment, a bit overcome by the unconditional support.  Then he looked back up, a smile on his face.  "Well, I guess there isn't anything else I need to say."

          "Then why don't you pass that salad dressing down here," Josiah rumbled, with a toothy grin.

          Vin held up his beer bottle, saying, "T' friends… 'n' family."

          "Amen, brother," Josiah added, tapping his bottle against Vin's.  The others joined in, and then they dived back into their meal, the conversation ranging as it usually did across any number of tropics.

Chris glanced across the table at Vin, their eyes catching, smiles passing between the two of them.

          Once the meal was finished, Chris went inside to make coffee.  Ezra and Josiah also disappeared inside the house, returning a few minutes later with dessert.  Chris was on their heels, carrying the coffeepot and some cups.  He had to make a second trip to get more cups.

          Vin brightened, seeing what the two men were carrying – pies from his favorite bakery, Pi Squared.  The pies were all square, but they were delicious.

          "We have apple, peach, and cherry," Josiah announced.

          "And ice cream," Ezra added, heading back inside to retrieve it.

          As the pies were cut, ice cream added, and coffee poured, Vin sat back, watching and basking in the joy of it all.

          "I want cherry," JD announced.

          "Peach," Nathan added.

          Buck thought for a moment, then said, "Make mine a peach, too."

          Josiah handed out the orders, then said to Chris, "Boss?"

          "Apple," he replied, and was handed a slice.

          The profiler looked to Ezra, who smiled and dropped his gaze as he said, "Cherry for me."

          "Vin?" Josiah asked.

          "'M thinkin',"> the sniper replied.

          Josiah chuckled and helped himself to a slice of the apple.

          Vin stared at the three pies, saying, "Ah, hell, I can't decide.  Reckon I'll take one 'a each."

          The others laughed, but he did just that.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          After the meal, the men went inside, Josiah and Nathan helping Chris to clean up in the kitchen, while Buck, JD, and Vin headed for the video games.  Ezra split his time between the two groups, "supervising."

          Once the cleanup was finished, the three men joined the others in the living room, the games ending and the television coming on to provide background noise, the seven men settling in around a card table Vin had set up earlier.  The poker game that they started lasted for several hours, and even though they played for pennies, it was competitive and spirited.

          As they were waiting for Nathan to deal the next hand, JD shot Vin a look, his cheeks going slightly red.

          "Somethin' on yer mind?" Vin asked him.

          JD's blush deepened and he looked down at his cards.  "I was just wonderin' if you still wanted to be a sniper."

          Vin blinked, having assumed that the question would be different.  He grinned at the younger man.  "Hell, JD, somebody's gotta watch yer backs, right?"

          JD nodded, looking relieved.

          And then, as they continued to play, everything shifted, returning once more to that magical state of "normal."  No one really noticed, but shoulders sagged, released from the invisible tension that had held them all since Chris was poisoned.  Smiles came more often and more easily, and the usual teasing returned to its usual levels.  The fact that Chris and Vin had both nearly died, that they had entered into a relationship, was pushed to the edges of consciousness.  They were just the same men they had always been, doing what they did best, and doing it with others who considered them family, who watched their backs.  All was once more right with the world, and Team Seven was healed and whole once more.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Once the poker game came to an end, the men shared a final round of coffee, then departed to head home.  Chris and Vin watched them all go, then locked up the house and headed silently to the master bedroom.  Nightly rituals were quickly taken care of and the two men climbed into bed.

          Vin snuggled back against Chris, getting comfortable.

          "So, it's back to work tomorrow…" Larabee said softly.

          "Mmm hmm," Vin replied, relaxing as Chris began to stroke along his side, from armpit to hip.

          "Dan gave you a clean bill of health, right?"

          "Sure did," Vin sighed, trembling slightly as the light touch raised goose bumps on his skin.  "I'm back t' fine."

          Chris leaned closer and kissed Vin's naked shoulder.  "Fine, huh?"

          "Ready t' go kick some bad-guy butt."

          "Ready for anything else?" Larabee asked, reaching over to snuggle Vin back closer to him.

          Vin laughed.  "Hell, y' wait 'til _now?_   I had weeks just layin' 'round here, nothing better t' do, but do y' take 'vantage of that?  Hell, no.  Now, when we gotta get up early in the mornin', _now_ y' get horny?"

          Chris chuckled.  It was exactly what he'd expected.  "Yep," he replied.

          "Well, yer just gonna have t' wait, Cowboy, 'cause I'm plannin' on sleeping t'night."

          "Is that so?" Chris asked, his hand returning to long, slow strokes along Tanner's side.  They were light touches, trailing at the end over the man's bare flank and ass.

          "Goddamn sonauvabitch," Vin grumbled, feeling his cock begin to stir.

          "And here I've been waiting all this time, letting you heal up, making sure we didn't do anything that might hurt you…"

          "Told y' a week ago I was _fine_ ," Vin grumbled.

          The blond's hand continued to stroke, to tease…  "But the _doctor_ hadn't said you were fine."

          "I think I know if I'm fine enough fer _that_ ," Tanner argued.

          "Well, you are now…  Doctor said so."

          "Now I wanna go t' sleep."

          "Not what _he_ wants," Chris said, his hand gliding over Vin's side to tickle the hard cock that was lying along Vin's lower belly.

          " _He_ don't know what's good fer 'im."

          "Bet _I_ do," Chris replied with a soft purr, his hand tracing back over Tanner's hip, making a beeline for the sniper's ass.  Fingers pressed into the waiting crack, rubbing over the tight opening.

          "Damn you, Larabee, y' don't fight fair."

          "If you're going to fight, fight to win, I always say."

          Vin muttered something into his pillow, and Chris was reasonably sure it was something the sniper would never utter in mixed company.  He grinned, knowing he'd won, but he was having too much fun to stop.  He probed the pucker of muscle and felt Vin squirm, his top leg shifting higher to give Chris easier access.

          Larabee pressed the advantage, reaching down to cup Tanner's balls and giving them a squeeze and a pull.

          "Sonuvabitch," Vin growled into the pillow.  The rest of what he said was left to the blond's imagination.  He slid his hand up farther, taking hold of Tanner's cock.  The sniper continued his comments silently, a groan bubbling out of his throat the only sound Larabee heard.

          "Mmm, definitely looks like somebody's awake."

          "Somebody shouldn't be," Vin retorted, but the words had lost all their impact, being followed up by a softly gasped, "Oh, God…  Chris…"

          Larabee licked his lips.  It had been too damn long – eight seemingly endless weeks.  How they had both made it through that, he wasn't sure, but the drought was officially over, and he planned to indulge.  He rolled forward, humping his own almost-full cock against Tanner's ass as he reached for the bottle of KY on the bookcase headboard.  With that in hand, he sat up in the bed behind Vin and pulled the covers off them both.

          Vin grumbled, goose pimples rising all over his body.  "It's cold out here."

          "Not for long," Chris assured him, squeezing out some of the KY onto his fingers, and rubbing it up and down Vin's crack before slipping one finger inside the man.

          Vin gasped at the unexpected move, but he pressed his hips back, trying to force the digit in deeper.  Chris teased the younger man, running his fingers around the circle of muscle, stabbing in with shallow strokes that quickly had the sniper whining.

          When he thought Tanner was ready, Chris added a few more drops of the lubricant and pressed two fingers in, going deeper this time.

          "Ah…" Vin responded, hips rocking against the invasion.  "Wantcha," he breathed.  "Wantcha inside me, Chris…"

          "Want to be inside you," Chris replied, twisting his fingers as he pressed them in as deep as they could go."

          "C'mon," Vin grunted, bearing down and opening himself more for Chris.

          "Soon," Larabee replied, knowing the younger man wasn't ready just yet.

          "Need y' bad, Chris," Vin groaned, his back arching as Larabee pulled out before slowly trying three fingers.  "Oh, God," the sniper gasped.  "Chris…"

          But the blond would not be rushed.  He worked his fingers in, stretching the tight channel until he was reasonably sure he wouldn't hurt his lover, then he slowly withdrew his fingers and reached again for the KY, this time slicking himself.

          "Lift your leg up," he told Tanner, who was still lying on his side.

          Vin's leg rose, his knee bent, his ass open for the taking.

          Chris shifted in behind him and, grabbing his cock, directed it to that most intimate opening.  He pressed, the tip of his cock opening Vin, and he slid in, the tight ring of flesh closing behind his glans.

          Both men grunted in pleasure.

          Vin reached up and hooked his arm behind his knee, his body shaking with pleasure as Chris pressed deeper into his ass.  "God, Chris… feels so good…"

          "Mmm," Larabee replied, enjoying the feeling the position imparted on his cock as he slowly filled Vin's tight heat.  Once he was mostly in, he pulled out halfway and pressed back in, beginning a tempo that built slowly to one that was fast and strong.  His hand came up to grab Vin's hip, making it easier to thrust in harder.

          He knew he was getting close, but his pleasure was delayed when Vin groaned, "Leg… hurts…"

          "Easy," Chris replied, his hips stopping, cock buried in Tanner's ass.  "Can you roll over onto your belly?"

          Vin nodded, easing his leg down.  The increased pressure on Larabee's cock almost set the blond's hips in motion again, but he managed to hold still, following Vin as he shifted below him.  Within seconds, Vin had his chest pressed to the mattress, his ass up in the air, still stuffed full.

          Chris was on his knees behind him.  He reached out, hands coming to rest on Vin's hips as he began to move again, thrusting into the sniper as Tanner rocked back to meet each thrust.  He felt his balls slapping against Vin's ass, and felt the younger man's balls swinging beneath him.

          He rode into Vin and stopped, enjoying the feel of being sheathed inside him.  "God, you're tight," he groaned and felt Vin tighten his muscles around him.  "Christ," he breathed, holding on to Vin's hips and rocking, staying buried in the welcoming tightness.

          "Hard, Chris," Vin breathed.

          Larabee pressed his hands flat against Vin's ass cheeks, pulling them open slightly, then he pressed down and began to move, quickly picking up speed until he was piercing Vin with fast, hard stabs.  When Tanner began to moan, he reached under with one hand and grabbed Vin's cock, precome leaking from the slit more than enough to slick Chris' hand so he could fist his lover.

          "Oh, God!" Vin cried, feeling his climax rushing up to overtake him.  He threw his head back as his body began to shake, and, a moment later, he was spilling his seed into Chris' hand while Larabee plundered his ass.

          Vin grunted and shook, his muscles convulsing around the blond's cock.  He jerked his hips back with each stab, wanting the man to possess him completely as his balls tried to turn themselves inside out.

          Chris rode his orgasm out, hips slowing, but each thrust still taking him all the way in.  He was so close.  "Turn over," he growled at Vin, pulling himself free.

          Vin quickly rolled over and lifted his legs, his arms hooked under his knees.

          Chris grabbed his cock and pressed back into the still-open hole, watching as a last pulse of come bubbled from Vin's cock as he struck the man's prostate on the slide in.  Then he began to pick up speed once more.

          Vin's head rolled from side to side as Chris took him, loving him the way he liked it best.  He knew it wouldn't last long, but while it did, his entire body continued to spark in an extended afterglow that had him mumbling, "Yes…  God…  Chris…  So good… so damn good… take me… fuck me… Chris…"

          The utter abandon with which Vin surrendered to him was more than Chris could take.  He felt his balls tighten, and then he was coming, filling Tanner's ass with his come, still pumping, each stroke milking more from him until there was nothing left.

          He stopped, panting for breath, sweat dripping from his chin onto Vin's come-smeared belly.  He grinned when Vin wrapped his legs around the blond's back and squeezed, sending an also-electrical charge racing through his groin and he felt one last bit of semen ooze from the tip of his cock.

          They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, then Chris carefully eased himself from Vin's ass and the pair cuddled in the big bed.

          "Damn," Chris said, "what you do to me, Tanner."

          "Likewise, Cowboy," Vin replied, and Chris didn't have to see the grin on the man's face to know it was there.

          They lay in the darkness for a few more minutes, then climbed off the bed to stumble into the bathroom.  They showered in the dark, toweling dry and returning to the bed, burrowing under the covers and cuddling up once more in the same position they had started in.

          "I love you, Vin Tanner," Chris whispered.

          "Love you, too," Vin replied.

          And, moments later, they were both soundly asleep.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Epilogue**

**The following weekend**

 

          Chris, Nathan, and Josiah relaxed on Larabee's deck.  Casey and Raine were in the kitchen, fixing sandwiches, while Buck and Ezra, and their dates, were in the living room, playing video games while JD supervised.

          Chris wasn't sure where Vin had disappeared to, but, if he hadn't surfaced by the time the food was ready, he'd go hunt him down.

          "So, how goes fatherhood?" Josiah asked Nathan, who was lying in his deck chair, eyes closed.

          "Good," the Black man replied, then opened his eyes and checked his watch.  "Surprised Tanner isn't awake and letting us know it's twenty minutes past her mealtime.  I swear that baby came with an internal alarm clock."

          Chris grinned.  "Enjoy the reprieve for as long as it lasts," he instructed.

          "Speaking of a reprieve, where's Vin?" Josiah asked.

          "Hell if I know," Larabee replied.  "Guess I better go find him before he misses _his_ feeding time."

          "We'll go see if the ladies need help bringing out the food," Josiah offered.  Nathan nodded his agreement.

          Chris stood and stretched, then headed inside, pausing just long enough to ask JD, "You seen Vin?"

          Their computer expert shook his head.  "Try the kitchen."

          Chris nodded, then checked to see who was winning (the women) before turning and heading for the kitchen.  He found Vin sitting in the breakfast nook, Tanner in his arms, sound asleep.  Vin was talking softly to the baby and drawing light touches on her face and hands.  As Larabee watched, she opened her eyes, looking up at Vin and then smiled.

          Vin smiled back, waving at her with a single finger.  Her hand waved and she managed to grab hold of his wiggling finger, putting a bigger smile on her face.

          And it struck Chris, right then and there, what an amazing father Vin would be.  He swallowed hard.  He hadn't thought he'd be a father again, but now, seeing Vin with his goddaughter, _their_ goddaughter…  The possibility seemed… possible.

          Vin looked up at him.  "Y' want t' hold her?"

          "You bet I do," Chris replied a little thickly, reaching out to lift Tanner into his arms.  She smiled and burbled, waving her chubby arms.  "I hear it's lunchtime for you, little lady," he said to the baby.

          "That is it," Raine said, coming over to fetch her daughter.  "I'll go let her get her lunch, then come get mine," she said, taking the baby and heading off to breastfeed her in the spare bedroom, where Vin kept his rocking chair.

          Chris and Vin helped the others carry out the food, everyone gathering around the picnic table.  Josiah said grace and they dug in.

Chris glanced at Vin, sitting across from him, and smiled.  Possibilities were good things… very good things.

 

 

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